


Safe and Sound

by BloodDrenchedRose



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Domestic Violence, F/M, Storybrooke University, Student!Belle, minor Belle/Gaston, prof!Gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodDrenchedRose/pseuds/BloodDrenchedRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enrolling into her last semester of college, Belle French is enrolled into a psychology class taught by none other than Professor Gold. Everything is all well and good for a while...until Belle's boyfriend flies off the handle for one last time. Will she get her happily ever after? Will she ever be safe and sound?</p><p>Title inspired by "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first attempt a multi-chapter Rumbelle fic. I'd like for it to be eventually switched to Explicit, but I might chicken out at the last minute. I own none of the characters; all of that strictly belongs to the creators of Once Upon a Time.

Belle French sat in the chair in front of her academic advisor, repeatedly digging one of her fingernails into the side of another. It was a nervous habit that she had acquired when she was younger, one her boyfriend had tried getting her out of for years. If anything, his habits always made the urge stronger. It always popped up when she was severely stressed. In this case, it was enrolling into this semester’s classes, something she had put off for one reason or another. She inwardly sighed as she reminded herself that this was going to be her last semester in college, one last semester of dealing with at least this chapter in her life.

Blue eyes peered over the top of the computer screen, concern etched on the professor’s face. Dr. Archibald Hopper pushed the frames of his glasses further up his nose before he spoke. “That’s only nine hours.”

Belle frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, it says here that you’re enrolled in three classes. That’s nine credit hours. You need a minimum of twelve credit hours to be considered a full-time student.”

“How can that be possible?” she demanded. “I applied to four classes two days ago!”

“It seems as though your Ancient History class,” he stated without flinching, “is the one that dropped you. Dr. Vincent tends to be strict when it comes to how many students are in her classes. If it’s not right at fifty people, she crosses off the excess.” Dr. Hopper gave a small smile. “I could always force-add you if you’re dead-set on it, though.”

“No,” Belle sighed, “don’t bother.”

“So do you want to keep your schedule as-is and be considered part-time?”

She shook her head. “No, I’d rather be a full-time student.” That way, her graduation wouldn’t be postponed another semester. Sure, she could take a three-credit class during the next semester, but it all needed to be done now. The less stress she had to deal with, the better.

The young professor hummed in noncommittal agreement, his gaze back to his computer screen and his fingers flying over the keyboard. There was something she liked about Archie Hopper: he never dug for any more information than he was given. He had the temperament of a psychologist, and he would have been a great one if his doctorate degrees in psychology were any indication.

A shout of surprise broke Belle out of her thoughts, and she bit back a sharp yelp as her eyes flew back to her advisor’s, excitement and trepidation rolling into one ball in the pit of her stomach. “What did you find?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before!” he murmured under his breath, his eyes wide as his hand gripped his computer’s mouse.

“What?”

“A psychology class!”

The young woman’s brow furrowed. “What about it?”

“I could enroll you in this psychology class! Granted, it’s the last one open, and we need to snag it before someone else does.”

“Sounds great!” she enthused.

This only made the professor happier as he typed the call numbers into the system. “Now, you don’t need to have other psychology classes as a prerequisite. All you need is a brilliant mind and a will to learn. And the course materials, of course.”

That was a no-brainer. Any student caught in class without the required texts usually had the entire class listening to a forty-five minute lecture about being prepared. It was enough to make the dedicated ones want to pull their hair out. Belle would usually take this opportunity to pull out a book and read, but something told her most professors would take that as an insult.

The office door suddenly swung open with a bang, the sound followed by a man limping in unannounced. The knuckles gripping the golden handle of his cane were pale white, a testament to the fury that wafted off of him like a sorority girl’s perfume. “It’s going to take _weeks_ to scrub that Sharpie marker off of my white board! If I ever find the insolent brat who thinks this is a good idea for a prank, I swear, Hopper, I will emotionally scar them so much that your pathetic excuse for counseling sessions won’t even make a dent.”

“Um…” Hopper began, “I’m with a student right now.”

Cold brown eyes that reminded Belle of chocolate left in a fridge overnight shifted from her head to her toes, an action that made her blush in self-consciousness. The man’s face then shifted into even worse of a sneer than before, a huff of indignation passing through his lips. “Schedule another appointment. It can wait.”

“Actually, it can’t. Today’s the last day to register for classes.”

The man looked from advisor to student and back again. A finger tapped on the handle of his cane in impatience until he finally swung away. “Fine,” he grumbled as he limped out the door. “I’ll see if I can catch you at a later time.” The door slammed so hard, Belle was surprised the small glass window didn’t shatter.

“Geez,” she huffed. “Would it kill him to smile?”

Dr. Hopper laughed. “That’s what people say. But he’s a good guy once you get to know him.”

Which was obviously code for, “You’ll get used to him being an asshole.” But considering how most men were assholes anyway, this wouldn’t be too much harder to deal with. Besides, it’s not like she was ever going to run into the bitter old man ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

Anthropology 1510.

English 2110.

Sociology 1010.

Psychology 2450.

The total for all of the materials needed for all of her classes? $461.50…and pending. Not to mention the fact that she still needed to apply for graduation, which meant eventually having to pay for a cap and gown. That was $70 that could go towards bills or groceries. It was moments like these where she wished she’d never signed up for college. But this was her ticket to a better life…supposedly.

Belle leaned back against the couch cushions with a heavy sigh of defeat. Yes, her grants and loans could cover the cost of the books, but it was paying back the loans after graduation that was worrying her. At least one bill would go unpaid per month until her debt was paid in-full, and there was no way her boyfriend would want to sacrifice any of his luxuries so the basics would get paid. Basics like rent, water, and electricity. But if she used her financial aid to pay for the books, that would mean less money would come back to her bank account, which mean less money to go towards bills….

A large, beefy arm propped itself over the back of the couch. “What’s the matter?” Garrett asked.

She gestured at the notebook where she had jotted down her calculations and heaved another sigh. “This. These textbooks are costing way too much.”

“What happened to the money we got from last semester’s books?”

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. “We spent that on video games and booze.”

“Oh.”

 _Yeah, oh!_ her brain screamed for her to say. But she bit her tough. Nothing good ever came from saying the wrong thing. She’d learned that ages ago….

“Well, there’s only one other option.”

Belle swung her head to look at him, hope blazing in her chest. A solution? It seemed too good to be true! “What?”

“You could always drop out.”

Her heart plummeted to her knees. _Drop out?_ The idea seemed hard to swallow. Yeah, college was a pain…but Garrett was right—it was a solution. But still…. “I graduate this semester, though.”

Garrett’s arm slid down until it was around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “You don’t need school. I can take care of you.”

“But—”

“Besides, it’s not like anyone will take you seriously with a degree like English Literature. Storybrooke needs lawyers and scientists, not someone to baby-sit a dusty old library. And let’s face it, sweetheart—you’re not that smart.”

Belle pulled herself away from him, locking eyes with the man with whom she’d been with for the past four years. The man who claimed to love her, yet whose words made her heart ache. “I’m not dropping out,” she said firmly.

Garrett’s eyes flashed with ire. “What?”

“I’m not quitting school just because you tell me to. With this degree, I’ll be able to pay the bills. All you’ll do is sit here and do nothing but play video games.”

A pain suddenly bloomed in her face, the sound of flesh against flesh resonating in her ears. Tears welled up in her eyes as the blow settled into a persistent stinging, and she cursed herself for that simple reaction. But then a thick hand threaded harshly in her hair, jerking her head back so blue eyes stared into ice-cold grey. “What did you say to me?” he asked quietly.

Her blood chilled in her veins. She’d learned to recognize that tone of his voice. Fighting would do no good.

“Answer me!” he bellowed.

Belle involuntarily flinched, her tears falling against her will. “I’m sorry, Garrett,” she forced out.

“You better be.” He shoved her away, her hands and knees connected to the carpeted floor to break her fall. “Get out of here, you bitch.”

Belle quickly scrambled to her feet, making her way to the bedroom as fast as she could. Staying any longer would only make things worse.

She knew from experience.

*~*~*

“Good Lord, Belle! What happened to your face?”

She flinched at her best friend’s question, choosing to bide her time by taking a long sip of her iced tea. She had gotten a text message this morning from the other girl, summoning her to Granny’s Diner for breakfast. Even though she knew the mark left on her cheek would be a topic of discussion, she had still peeled herself out from under Garrett’s arm and out the front door. Yes, there would be hell to pay later, but it was better than having to answer a barrage of questions just to see her best—and only—friend.

“Stalling isn’t going to help.”

Belle sighed before looking into Ruby Lucas’s emerald-green eyes. “I made Garrett mad last night.”

Ruby’s face darkened. “So he hit you.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded.

“Did you fight back?”

“No.”

Ruby let out a huge sigh of disappointment. It only made Belle’s blood boil.

“What could I have done?” Belle snapped. “He probably would have done something worse than slapping me in the face and grabbing me by the hair—“

“He grabbed you by your hair?” Ruby exploded.

Granny Lucas took this time to come to their table. “Who grabbed you by the hair?” she asked menacingly.

Good grief, these two were like a pair of she-wolves! “Just forget about it.”

“What happened to your face, girl?”

Belle buried her face in her hands, taking comfort in the pain that came with putting pressure on her bruise. “Nothing, Granny.”

“Garrett hit her,” Ruby filled in.

She could feel the anger radiating off of Granny now. “Want me to kill him?”

“No. He promised he wouldn’t do it again.”

Silence.

Good. Maybe the conversation was ov—

“You can’t be serious,” Granny said.

_Oh, dear Lord!_

Yes, after a while, Garrett had come into their room, gathered her into his arms, and apologized for hurting her. He told her he loved her, and he’d never hurt her again. Then he calmly and gently made love to her, all while wearing the sickeningly sweet smell of beer. And Belle naïvely thought that maybe this time was for real. Maybe this time he wouldn’t lash out in anger. Maybe….

But she’d been wrong before, she reminded herself, trying not to shudder at the memories.

“So,” Ruby said slowly, “you’re staying?”

“Yes.”

Granny huffed out a breath. “Well,” she said as she walked away. “You can’t fix stupid!”


	3. Chapter 3

Monday brought upon the first day of the semester, something that Belle was relieved and anxious about. The sooner this day finished, the sooner the next day would begin. And so on and so forth. Belle didn’t mind school all that much, really. The past few semesters, she had enjoyed scouring her textbooks and absorbing as much information as possible. However, this last semester would lead her to a type of freedom that seemed all too elusive right now.

Although, there was no telling what she would do with her degree. Probably nothing. Maybe she’d stay home and give Garrett the children he desired. “Strapping young boys,” he’d said once. All she’d done is paste a smile on her face and made a noise she hoped sounded like agreement. And she’d choked at the number he’d said he wanted.

Seven.

Ruby took that time to slide into the seat in front of Belle with a rather large sigh, her tray filled with a greasy burger and fries from Storybrooke University’s cafeteria. A murky-brown liquid sat in the plastic cup she popped down soon after. The bookworm wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

Her friend gave her a wolfish smile, laughter shimmering in her green eyes. “Chocolate milk mixed with Coke.”

“Gross!”

“You asked.” Ruby placed a straw in the cup and took a sip. “Tastes like a Coke float. Wanna try?”

“God, no! You and your concoctions….”

“Fine, fine.” Another sip. “How’s your day so far?”

“Pretty well,” Belle admitted. “I had my sociology and anthropology classes this morning. I only have that psychology class left today, and then tomorrow I have English.”

Ruby frowned. “Who teaches psychology?”

“Professor Gold, I think.”

Liquid went flying through the air between them before the other girl started coughing. “Professor Gold?” she parroted between hacks.

“Yes,” Belle said slowly. “Why?”

“The dude’s an asshole! I had to take a CORE class with him one year, and he made sure all of us were miserable. I heard that he once beat another student half to death just because his paper was a few seconds late.”

“I’m sure that was an overstatement,” Belle admonished. “It’s illegal to harm a student, no matter how many initials follow the name.”

“All right,” Ruby dragged out. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Belle shrugged as she stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

Her best friend gave a small flinch, a spark of realization filling her eyes. “Wait, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, Garrett already—”

“Leave it alone, Rubes.”

“Belle—”

She held up a hand, cutting the other girl off before she could finish the thought. It had been a week since Garrett had struck her last. The bruise spanning the side of her face had changed from an angry blue-ish purple to a disgusting yellow. Within that week, she had vowed to not mention the incident. If it never came up, it wouldn’t happen again. An irrational thought, but it was worth a shot….

“Is that seriously all you’re going to eat?”

Looking down at her paltry meal of a salad and a bottle of water, Belle felt fire tinge her cheeks. “There’s not a problem with eating light.”

“There’s eating light, and then there’s this.” Ruby gestured towards the tray sitting across from hers. “This puts rabbits to shame. You’re an omnivore. At least eat a burger!”

“I’m not really in the mood,” Belle mumbled. About that time, her stomach clinched painfully, her mouth watering at the memory of the combination of meat, ketchup, pickles, and other condiments. That and a glass of iced tea sounded divine. Alas….

The best things in life will have to wait until later. Perhaps much later.

*~*~*

_Crap, crap, crap!_

Staying with Ruby for a while after lunch was probably the worst move she could have made. It didn’t help that she had forgotten to seat an alarm to let herself know when to head to her last class of the day. Before she knew it, it was ten minutes before class was due to begin.

Well…now five since it was difficult to find a decent parking spot.

Belle had always prided herself on being punctual and well-prepared for just about anything. Who knew it would take so little to shoot that pride down the drain? Now here she was, sprinting as fast as she could up to the fourth-story classroom, her backpack hindering her every move as the notebook- and pencil-laden item jostled against her arms. Mere moments before, she had abandoned the heels on her feet and went to carry them in her hand, which definitely made the trek harder.

Lungs burning, legs aching, feet cramping, she finally made it to her destination. Room 429. It was amazing how she didn’t have to run around in circles just to find the place, something she may have done once or twice as a freshman. That definitely wouldn’t be a great first impression for the infamous Professor Gold—if what Ruby said was even remotely true.

It couldn’t be true.

If it was, she was thoroughly screwed.

After entering the room, she bit back a sigh of relief. The professor wasn’t in yet, which seemed shocking considering the story she had been told earlier. But every seat in this room was filled…except for the very front row.

Odd. Why would the other students do that? It couldn’t have been intentional. But the idea of them not seeing the neatly-lined row of desks was impossible.

The blood rushing through Belle’s veins turned cold. Something wasn’t right. Hopper had made a mistake—there was no way she could endure an entire semester with a professor who had the same temperament as Garrett.

Lord knows only one is enough.

The doorknob began to turn. Acting upon instinct, she bolted towards the desk in the front row that was closest to the window. Upon extra thought, maybe that wasn’t the best idea to go with. What could she do, jump four floors to her death just to escape?

Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad idea….

No. _Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._

The door opened. The first thing she saw of the newcomer was a black cane with a golden handle.

_Oh. My. God._

It’s the same asshole she encountered during registration.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty difficult to write. The classes that Belle are in this semester are classes that I've taken in undergrad, and I've kept almost all of my notes. (Don't ask why. Even I don't know.) This particular class has three different notebooks--one from when I first took the class, and two from the time I took it for my boyfriend. So I had my notes spread out in front of me, intensely prepared to write out this chapter...and I drew a blank. That being said, excuse my fumblings.
> 
> Also, this is my first multi-chapter fic since my senior year of high school, which was around 2009-2010. I'm not the greatest, nor will I ever will be. Please bear with me as I try and make this story at least an okay one.

This? _This_ is the infamous Professor Gold? This smarmy jerk who limped into Dr. Hopper’s office last week because of a few marks on his whiteboard with a Sharpie? It was almost like seeing Ralphie wearing that bunny costume in _A Christmas Story_ —she couldn’t take him seriously!

“I hope you all have had plenty of time to examine the course materials. If not…may God have mercy on your souls.”

But oh my gosh, that Scottish brogue was sexy. If situations were different, she would listen to his voice all day long, Garrett be damned.

Belle automatically felt guilty for that thought. Garrett was everything to her, even if he was a bit rough with her every once in a while. Besides, all relationships are like that. Right?

The man before her surveyed the room, his brown eyes resting upon her a little too long, curiosity playing in their depths. He eventually sighed, turned his back to the class, and lifted the veil that covered the board.

The entire class erupted into laughter.

A crude drawing of the male phallus was drawn in a black marker, tiny lines decorating the testicles with an arrow pointing at it that read “Mr. Gold’s hairy balls”. But that didn’t deter the old professor as he grabbed the nearest dry erase marker and started to scribble in down-right appalling handwriting:

_Professor Gold_  
_Psychology 2450.0IS_  
_Psychology and the Challenges of Life_

He capped the marker, spun around, and announced, “This is the name of the class and the name of our text. If you’re in the wrong room, I suggest you get the fuck out and do so quietly.”

Silence. No one moved.

“Excellent decision. Now…if you’d take out your books and go to the first chapter.”

Everyone moved at once. Belle stared in awe as they did as the professor demanded, not another word spoken and without a single unnecessary sound. Usually other students would take this time to talk to their friends. It was as though he had put them all under a spell. Maybe he did scare them into submission….

Professor Gold began pacing the room, and Belle took this moment to grab one of her notebooks and something to write with. He was teaching today instead of sending them off like the other instructors had? Strange.

“For those of you who already know what psychology is, congratulations. You aren’t as dense as I’d pegged you to be, but why the hell are you in this class? For those who don’t know what it is, it’s a scientific approach to the study of behavior and mental processes and can be applied to our lives to help us adjust.”

Wait, was this where she’s supposed to take notes? From the looks of the pens flying on paper and highlighters gliding on the textbook pages, it probably was.

He continued. “Scientists believe that human behavior is dictated through either nature or nurture, both being governed by genetics and environment, respectively. One group of scientists side with strictly nature, another with nurture. I certainly don’t give a damn because I think they’re all idiots by coming up with that lazy excuse of why—”

Suddenly the room got quiet again. Belle looked up to see the professor staring blankly at her. Her stomach dropped as he limped over to her desk, then placed his cane in front of himself, bracing both hands on the handle in a stance that seemed oh-so-natural to him.

“Where’s your textbook?” he finally asked.

Belle tried to swallow past the lump that fear had placed in her throat. She recognized that tone of voice. Dominance. “I…” she forced out, surprised her voice didn’t come out as a squeak, “I-I don’t have one.”

“And why not?” His question came out clipped, his jaw tense as he squeezed the words past clenched teeth.

She lifted her chin in defiance. It wouldn’t do any good to bow down to him. _Do the brave thing…._ “I couldn’t afford it.”

“Couldn’t afford….” Professor Gold’s voice tapered off as he seemed to consider this. Then, “What’s your name?”

“Belle French.”

“Well, Miss French,” he spat out, “It doesn’t do any good to come to class unprepared.” He swung away, limping back to the front of the room. “Class is dismissed.”

_What?_

The other students took this as their cue to scramble out of their desks, murmuring to their buddies about how “that girl’s gonna die”.

Belle didn’t move, not even to put her notebook away. What game was he playing? Why dismiss the whole class because one person didn’t have what they needed? Most professors would have handed a reprimand, then continue like nothing ever happened.

Or maybe Ruby was right, and he was planning on biding his time until after everyone had left. Maybe those threats towards the people who maimed his precious white board weren’t idle? Or maybe—

“What are you still doing here?”

That Scottish brogue brought her back to reality. She frowned at his question as she mulled it over in her head. “Is this a problem?” she finally answered.

Professor Gold barked out a harsh laugh. “Most students would jump at the chance to leave the room early.”

She shrugged. “Ever thought that maybe one of your students might want to speak with you after class?”

“Highly unlikely. Or do you not know about my reputation here at the university?”

Belle stood up and walked towards the desk that bore the nameplate reading _Professor A. Gold_ and perched herself on the corner of it. “I don’t think you’re that bad.”

He smirked. “And what makes you say that?”

“Wouldn’t you have beaten me with that cane of yours if that was the case?”

A strange glint appeared in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw ticked. He turned away from her. “You need to leave.”

Before he could take a step, a single word flew from her mouth. “Wait.”

He obeyed, hesitating only for a brief moment before facing her again. “What now?” he snapped.

“I can tell you an easy way to get that Sharpie off your board.”

An eyebrow rose at that, but it didn’t stop him from taking that stance of his again, his cane in front of the rest of his body. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Belle jumped down from the desk and strode to the board in question, grabbing a dry erase marker from its cradle.

“What good is that going to d—”

The single diagonal line she drew across the offensive words, followed by a drag of the eraser, managed to shut him up. She looked up at him and couldn’t help but let out a giggle at his slack jaw.

The man beside her attempted to reign in his shock after another second or two. “Where did you learn that?” he managed to ask.

She grinned at him and said, “They call it the internet.”

That strange look in his eye returned at her comment, but he didn’t say a word in response. It only made her shake her head as she walked towards her desk to load up her backpack.

“Good day, Professor Gold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does the "A" in his name stand for? Anyone want to guess? (I know the answer, but I'm wanting to hide it until next chapter...which may be in Gold's POV.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work and school kept me busy, which is why it took me so long to post this installment. I'd like to have the next chapter posted by tomorrow, but I don't see that happening since I have to work from 2pm-9pm CST.
> 
> By the way, if you want to SnapChat me, my username is missrizamustang. I'm just now getting into it.

Adam took the closest thing to him—a tin container holding pens and pencils—and slung it towards the nearest wall. _Idiots, idiots, IDIOTS!_ his mind chanted.

 Two weeks. He gave them two weeks to study for this test, and almost every one of his students had failed. Sure, he had one or two who could grasp the concept of his lessons, but the rest of them were a heap of blundering morons.

He picked up the test he was in the middle of grading, certain there had been a mistake. This girl, this _Belle_ , had been gushed about by Professor Hopper for a while now.

_“You’ll love her,”_ he’d said. _“She’s been at the top of her classes since she started here four years ago.”_

If that was the case, why was her exam close to being worthy of the lowest grade?

“You’re here awfully late.”

Adam looked towards his office door, not at all surprised to see Archie Hopper standing in the doorway. Theirs was a friendship that started off as the usual relationship he has with everyone else in this dreadful town, but then…the conversations began. And soon Hopper was able to examine every corner of Adam’s psyche without the hassle of being found out by the other citizens.

“Just doing my duty of grading these damn things,” he muttered back in response, picking up the only pen left on his desk—a black one to match his ever-darkening heart.

 Archie frowned as he sat down in the chair across from Adam’s desk and watched as the ink pen made angry scratches on the test. “Why didn’t you go with multiple choice questions?”

  _This one is wrong. And this is blank. Blank. Blank…._ “What, you _want_ them to be as dumb as a box of rocks?”

 “No, of course not.”

 “Apparently, you do.” He marked the result at the top of the page and threw the paper at the other man. “Some student you have there.”

 Archie’s eyes grew wide as he tried to take in everything at once. “What?” he finally breathed out.

 Adam made a flourishing gesture with his hand. “Not bad for your star student.” Sarcasm dripped like poison with his every word.

 “But…how?”

 How? Because the girl didn’t have her needed materials for the past two weeks. The syllabus posted on the school website stated that there were two things required to pass: textbook and notes. Having only one of those would bring failure to every exam, paper, and any other assignment he might dole out.

Not even Lord Google would be able to save this girl’s hide.

Hopper shook his head silently before commenting with, “Give her a retest.” 

Adam scoffed. “I hardly think that’s fair! This is what people deserve when they don’t take the chance to get the materials they need.”

“Maybe she was just having a bad day.” 

He snorted. There was no such thing in his book. Either it was or it wasn’t. And there was no room for error. He had always learned that if it wasn’t right the first go-around, that was it. It was like that throughout his childhood and stretched on until the end of his first marriage.

Part of him felt like the girl had also learned this lesson, judging by that God-awful bruise that marred her skin for the first week and a half. The human side of him had nearly raged at the sight, and he was surprised he was able to keep himself from demanding who had hurt her so he could go after the bastard himself.

But this was a student. A student who had failed the first test of the semester. He had no reason to pity the girl except for academically. By the time the next fourteen weeks were over and done with, her GPA would be so shot that it would look like someone had used it for target practice.

The more he thought out about it, the more his human side won out.

“What are you going to do?”

The other man’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He sighed and looked Archie right in the eye. “What do you know about her?”

“Not much. We haven’t really spoken except for when she’s registering for classes.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “You’ve been advising her for four years, and you’ve never went beyond academic talk?”

“Her record mentioned a father at the beginning of her college career. But looking up the name of Maurice French brings up a death certificate dating back to 2012.”

“What about her financial records? What do they say?”

“That goes beyond my jurisdiction. Only the financial aid office knows that information.”

He raised a brow. “So you know nothing.”

“Well….” Archie seemed to gulp. “She _was_ pretty adamant about needing twelve hours this semester. Most of our students are required to have full-time status just to get a pell grant.”

Finally! A good place to start. If she needed the financial aid and took so long to even register for classes, she wouldn’t have her book voucher. And since she didn’t have her book voucher, she couldn’t get her books. 

Why he cared about that kind of thing, he didn’t know. What he did know was that he had an idea he didn’t like, but his barely-existing conscience told him to go with it anyway. After all, what’s the harm in it?

*~*~*

She knocked on the door of the office, cursing herself at the hesitancy she heard in the sound. It was highly unusual for her to be summoned into a professor’s office, let alone after hours. The request had actually come from Doctor Hopper at the end of her English class, the tiny man saying that Professor Gold needed to talk to her about something important. Still, it was enough to make her wary of the situation.

Fear was an emotion she tried to erase from her repertoire. In her experience, men were prone to being able to sense fear, and with it came the ability to get what they wanted at a higher rate. Even if it meant inflicting pain. Counting the number of times in her head that she’d knelt on the floor in shame after Garrett had beaten and kicked her were enough to make her sick.

“Come in!” came the barked reply on the other side of the door.

Belle inhaled a deep breath and squared her shoulders. This man—this _dragon_ —couldn’t touch her without the law interfering. Privacy in the home is one thing. College campus is another. And with that thought came a tiny sliver of bravery that helped her to latch her hand on the door handle and turn it.

In her mind, she saw this dragon’s lair as pitch black with maybe a fireplace in the background. Instead, what greeted her were fluorescent ceiling lights like every other room in this institution, and a large wooden desk with two chairs in front of it and one large office chair behind it. A name plate that seemed to be an exact replica of the one in his classroom sat on the surface of this desk. Bookshelves lined the walls, titles spanning from nonfiction ( _The Invisible Gorilla_ by Chabris and Simon), self-help ( _How to Not Kill Your Students: 12 Easy Steps_ by Professor A. Gold), and fiction ( _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ by Robert Louis Stevenson).

“This is not a library, dearie.”

In that moment, Belle realized that she’d been gawking at all of the books in one room. Her eyes snapped to Professor Gold’s. “Sorry. You asked to see me?”

“Indeed, I did.” He gestured to one of his other chairs. “Please sit.” 

Her brow furrowed at the formality in his tone. Where was the biting sarcasm? The disdain that seemed to chill the air in the room? When she had mentioned this upcoming meeting with Ruby, the other girl was quick to inform her that he took pleasure in watching others squirm, that he probably jacked off to it at night like some sort of pervert. But there was no glee when she walked closer to look into his eyes. Only resignation.

He was confusing as hell. A puzzle she suddenly itched to solve. What made this man tick? And why was he contradicting everything she’s ever heard about him?

She sat, folded her hands in her lap, and waited.

The professor and she stared at each other for a while. Seconds felt like they were ticking into hours before her dragon finally heaved out a sigh and reached for a manila folder.

_Her_ dragon?

A paper was then slid in front of her awaiting gaze.

The first psychology test of the semester. Almost all of the answers were marked wrong.

“Two percent?” she spat out.

“I don’t tolerate failures,” he responded.

“How could anyone know the answers to half these questions?” She picked up the exam. “‘Name the six types of defense mechanisms a person has and describe them in detail’? ‘What’s the difference between trait anxiety and state anxiety’? ‘Describe acculterative stress’? None of these were in the lectures you gave us!”

“I guess it helps to read the book.”

“I couldn’t afford it! I told you this!”

“If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard that excuse.”

Fury propelled her to her feet. “Excuse me, _sir_ ,” she said. “I don’t expect you to understand where I’m coming from when it comes to finances, but I would appreciate it if you would be a bit more compassionate.”

Professor Gold rose to his feet as well, the undercurrent of anger wafting off of him like cigarette smoke. “Compassion was never my strong suit.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He rose any eyebrow, apparently shocked at her blatant use of sarcasm around him. It was odd. He made it easy to lose sight of her fear. But the wariness returned as he grabbed his cane and proceeded to walk around his desk.

Wait, were they done here? 

He seemed to sense her confusion, because he stopped when he was next to the door to his office. “I need to show you something,” he announced. 

_The test wasn’t enough?_ What else could there be? But the Master of Moodiness was already halfway out the door before she decided to follow him. It couldn’t possibly get worse from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted so badly to do my two-chapters-at-a-time thing, but that's not working out so well this time. Anyway, thanks for your support! Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Adam paused outside of Room 429, his heart doubling its rate. This had seemed like a good idea the day before. Now he began to wrack his brain to find whatever had possessed him to go through with it. He never let his actions lead without his head being a part of everything one hundred percent of the way. What made him act on impulse?

Hearing the sudden stop of heels clacking against the linoleum floor answered his questions.

It was her.

Somehow, this _girl_ had him acting in ways he never had before. The urge to dismiss class because _one person_ didn’t have their materials. Refusing to rail on her as she’d stayed behind. Actually becoming _concerned_ about her well-being even though everything within him said he shouldn’t.

What was it about her that made him so soft?

Adam slowly turned himself around, cursing his bum leg as it made the task damn-near impossible. Oh, how he longed for the days when he could frighten the world by quickly spinning on his heel and pierce them with a glare. But he now had to make do with what he had.

The sight of Belle standing there with her questioning blue eyes had his heart picking up even more. At this point, he wondered if he was close to having a heart attack. Surely this was an unnatural pace…. He cleared his throat before saying, “Not another word to the other students.”

Belle’s brow furrowed, and it made Adam want to reach out and smooth the crease away. Instead, he reached behind him for the classroom door, and he twisted it open.

He could tell when her eyes landed on the desk sitting next to the window, the same desk she had been occupying for the past two weeks. Her feet carried her over the small stack awaiting her there, and he briefly wondered how it was possible for a woman so tiny to be able to glide so easily in heels without so much as stumbling.

A hand reached out to brush against the royal blue cover of the hardback, and suddenly her eyes widened as she read the title.

 _Psychology and the Challenges of Life_  
Jeffery S. Nevid

*~*~*

Belle reverently picked up the textbook that had caused so much trouble within the past two weeks, and she gazed at it fondly before looking at the other three titles left in its wake.

_Anthropology: What Does It Mean to Be Human?_

_Literature: A Pocket Anthology_

_Sociology in Our Times: The Essentials_

They were all the books she needed for the semester.

She spun around to look at Professor Gold as he stood in that familiar stance of his, hands braced on the golden handle of the cane in front of him. Realization made her eyes grow wide. “Did you…?” she began.

“Yes,” was his only reply.

Before she could stop herself, Belle suddenly found herself rushing towards the old professor and throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered into his suit jacket.

“I only did it because of that horrid exam of yours,” he responded, his voice more clipped than usual. “Didn’t want your other instructors to suffer the same fate I did.”

She raised her head the slightest bit and prepared to respond in jest, but the words turned into cotton in her mouth as she looked up at him, the smile melting off of her face.

The world ceased to exist at that moment and time stood still as she looked into his eyes. Pensive eyes that slowly went from a shade of russet that held a million secrets to nearly black. Her gaze searched his face for every line, every crease, every inch of the light stubble that coated his bottom jaw. Good Lord, facial hair never looked so sexy….

But then her eyes travelled back up to trace the curve of his lips, and it was there where she found it hard to breathe. He was so close. She subconsciously licked her lips as she contemplated leaning the tiniest bit so she could see what he tasted like—

“Belle,” he whispered.

Belle suddenly jerked herself away from him, clearing her throat as her face flamed, her brain zipping itself back to reality. No. That definitely did not almost happen! She had actually thought about kissing him. _He’s your professor!_

She turned her attention back to the textbooks sitting on her desk, scrambling for words that would hopefully ease the tension. Nothing came to mind except, “How much do I owe you?”

Professor Gold cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

“There’s no way you could have done this without wanting something in return.” No one ever did.

Silence echoed within the room for a moment. Finally, “You could actually study for the next test.”

She turned around to face him again, a biting retort on the tip of her tongue. The words evaporated, and she was left gaping like a fish at the sight that stood before her: a smirk. An amused quirk of those delectable lips that had her wanting to taste them all over again.

She was going to be in deep trouble if she didn’t leave soon.

“I…” The crack in her voice made her clear her throat. “I’ll do my best.” With that, she turned back to collect her textbooks and prepared to shuffle out the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.”

*~*~*

He knew the moment she walked out the door that it would be a while before he could go home. Having Be—Miss French so close was enough to drive him insane. Going home now would have him grasping himself in his hand until he exploded in a sickening mixture of relief and shame. This was his student, someone he was forbidden to touch for the next fourteen weeks.

He wasn’t going to make it, he feared.

Adam’s mind involuntarily flashed him the memory of those expressive, bright blue eyes of hers. Eyes he could drown in. Having her arms wrapped around him had frozen him in confusion, and he had to keep himself from pulling her even closer to him The floral scent of her hair drove him insane, and when she had leaned forward the tiniest bit, he knew in the very pit of his darkening heart that he wanted nothing more than to cross the rest of that distance and die happily as his lips brushed against hers.

But no, he had to say something to break that spell. One more second and he would have been able to see if she tasted as sweet as he imagined, and he’d ruined it by whispering her name in a type of counter-curse.

And tomorrow as when he taught the class she’d be sitting in, all bright-eyed and in that first-row desk of hers.

Oh, yeah. He was a goner for sure.


	7. Chapter 7

_“Whose woods these are I think I know  
__His house is in the village, though;_  
_He will not see me stopping here_  
 _To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer_  
_To stop without a farmhouse near_  
 _Between the woods and frozen lake_  
 _The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake_  
_To ask if there is some mistake_  
 _The only other sound’s the sweep_  
 _Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep_   
_But I have promises to keep_   
_And miles to go before I sleep_   
_And miles to go before I sleep.”_

“Where’d you get that?”

Belle’s head snapped up from the page, pulse skittering as she frantically tried to find the source of the voice. The sight of emerald eyes shining with concern sent a wave of relief crashing onto her. “Ruby,” she breathed.

The Lucas girl took a spot next to her on the stone bench in the courtyard. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me walk up.”

Belle shook her head with a sigh as she closed her English book. It had been nearly impossible to put it down all day today. She would have read it last night, but the thought of Garrett finding out about the textbooks made her sick to her stomach. No, that was definitely a bad idea….

So far, she had been sucked down the rabbit hole known as fiction and poetry. _The Cask of Amontillado_ by Edgar Allan Poe, _The Minister’s Black Veil_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne, and different sonnets from Shakespeare to name a few. It was a bookworm’s dream come true!

But alas, they had been squirreled away in her school bag until she reached Storybrooke University. It was hard not to peak at its pages while in her sociology class, but it was even harder to contain her squeal of delight upon finding the note on her anthropology classroom announcing that class was cancelled for the day. Belle had been sitting in the courtyard ever since, waiting for her best friend to get out of her culinary arts class before trekking to the cafeteria.

And after that….

“How did the meeting go yesterday?” the other girl asked.

Belle focused on putting her book in her bag, muttering a half-hearted, “It was fine.”

“I’m surprised you came out alive. I thought that monster was going to eat you!”

The words came out before she could stop them: “I hardly think he’d do such a thing.”

An intense silence spanned the few seconds between the two of them, and Belle tried the best she could not to squirm under Ruby’s gaze. Finally, “Are you--?”

“Don’t even go there, Ruby. I already have Garrett.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “You _shouldn’t_ have Garrett, but I’ll shut up about that.”

“Good. Because Garrett’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Did he train you to say that?” Ruby muttered.

Belle shot a glare in her direction.

“Okay, okay! I’m done!” She let out a large exhale before saying, “Let’s go ahead and gets some food. I’m starving!”

*~*~*

Today was supposed to be an easy day. Really and truly, it was. At least…that’s how he had planned it before the semester started. Before a literal beauty walked into his life.

His lesson plan stated that he was to have his students writing him a paper as he sat at his desk instead of pacing the floor. He was to put his grades down in his grade book, possibly map out the next lesson (or five), as the _children_ he taught wrote him an essay about how college drinking was probably the most idiotic thing they could do to themselves.

(Although, he had to admit to himself that those fools were already so far gone that perhaps drinking would _save_ a few brain cells rather than destroy them further.)

But instead of schoolwork, Adam had a more…pressing matter on his mind. Something that should be as far from his mind as possible considering how long it’s been since someone had even sparked his interest.

And it was all because of one Belle French.

He would give anything to dismiss class and single her out on purpose, only to lead her to his office. He would watch her perch on the edge of his large desk, legs crossed at the knee so that her impossibly short skirt would unveil more of her skin for his feasting eyes to gaze upon. And that accented voice murmuring, “Is there a problem?” would have him breeching the distance between them and capturing that mouth of hers with his.

Breathing would definitely be something he’d be willing to give up for just one kiss. Hell, he’d be happy as long as he could have her arms around his neck again, her hands running through his hair. He’d push that skirt even further up, ghosting his fingers across that part of her he needed most—

“Professor!”

Adam’s eyes snapped open, his breath lodged in his throat as he looked up to see the object of his fantasies in front of his desk. Her brow was furrowed as she chewed her bottom lip, a gesture he found adorable and wasn’t helping his current situation any. He cleared his throat. “What can I help you with, Miss French?”

She made a small gesture over her shoulder before saying, “Everyone’s already gone.”

_What the fuck?_ “Why?”

“Well…you had told us to do our papers, then place them on your desk before we left.”

It was then that he noticed the stack of notebook paper that was barely an inch off his desk. Great. Some of them thought this was a bird course. He’d have to remedy that somehow…. “So why are you still here?” Adam asked instead. He had to tell himself it wasn’t just because he wanted to listen to her voice.

“Oh, I saw your eyes closed. I thought it’d be rude if I just left you in an empty classroom.”

Adam inwardly groaned. Just his luck. He has his first sexual fantasy in years and the girl he’s dreaming about doesn’t want him to be alone.

“Professor?” Belle started walking around the desk. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dearie!” he responded quickly, grateful his words made her stop in her tracks. “You go on ahead.”

“Are you coming?”

_Almost_ , he wanted to say. Nope, that wouldn’t be appropriate. God, why did she have to be his student? “I’ll be a while,” he forced out instead.

“Are you sure?”

_Oh my God, just go already!_ He was too close to grabbing her and finishing the rest of his daydream. It was a miracle that hadn’t happened yet. “Yes,” he gritted out, “I’m sure.”

Belle hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the sides of her fingernails a bit (what kind of a habit was that?) before nodding her head and turning towards the door. “See you next time,” she called over her shoulder.

Adam took a deep breath the moment the girl disappeared. Thirteen weeks, three days, six hours, and fifty-two minutes. He could do this.

Hopefully.

*~*~*

Belle sighed dreamily as she finished reading the last stanza. There was something about Dylan Thomas’s “Do not go gentle into that good night” that spoke to her. Then again, all written words were able to do that to her. Ever since her mother had introduced that first book to her at a young age, Belle hardly ever found a book, poem, or screenplay she didn’t like. From Robert Louis Stevenson to Ted Dekker, everything was so fascinating.

The sound of the door unlicking hardly registered in her head as she turned the page, itching to see what new piece of literature awaited her eyes. It wasn’t until her book was wrenched out of her hands that she found herself reacting on instinct, leaning off of the ratty couch in an attempt to get it back.

Garrett quickly spun through the pages, a look of disgust on his face. “How can you read this? There’s no pictures in it!”

Belle felt the heat flood her face, averting her eyes from her boyfriend’s face. “It’s not supposed to,” she countered quietly, her fingernails digging into the skin of her hands. The second time today she’s succumbed to that habit. It was amazing the skin didn’t peel back even the slightest bit.

“It’s not right for a woman to read,” Garrett continued, clearly ignoring her paltry excuse for an argument. “Soon she’ll start thinking….” His voice trailed off, and it was a moment before a hand touched her face.

Belle cursed herself for flinching.

“Why do you want to waste your time on these foolish books? A woman should be focusing on pleasing her man. It’s bad enough you went to college. You’re not even worth the attention of those professors, sweetheart.”

Her gaze flickered to his grey eyes at last, her brain finally soaking in his words. Professor Gold had practically chased her out of the room today, so perhaps Garrett was right….

“Besides, it’s like you said: you won’t be able to pass without your textbooks.”

“But I have them.”

Belle immediately regretted her words the moment she said them, a tight knot forming in the pit of her stomach as the man in front of her seemed to morph into a beast, wrath overtaking his features before he took a look at the book in his clutches.

“Where’d you get this?”

Oh God, she was going to throw up.

He grabbed the backpack that was lounging beside the couch, rifling through its contents before slinging it across the living room. An inhuman bark of laughter escaped from his chest. “So you’re hiding money now, Belle?” he roared.

“I—” Her breath lodged in her throat, preventing anything other than a squeak from coming out of her mouth.

Garrett pounced on that opportunity in a heartbeat. “What? You think I’m stupid enough to think that someone _gave_ these to you? Or that they just magically appeared?”

“Garr—”

He whipped the book through the air, apparently pleased when it hit Belle on the side of the head, causing her to collapse on the couch with a shout of pain. He was there on top of her, shoving her arms out of the way as she tried to fight back.

“Garrett, stop!”

“Where is it, Belle?” he yelled as he pawed at her, fabric ripping and cool air touching her shoulder. That knot in her stomach tightened even further, the slap of a hand against her face causing her to cry out once more.

“Stop it! Please!”

He finally jerked himself away from her, panting heavily. “You’re off the hook now, bitch.  But once I find out where you’re hiding your money, you’re history.” With that final warning, he stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Fighting back her stream of tears, Belle jumped up from her previous prison.

And ran out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any references spotted in this chapter are not mine. The beginning poem is "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. I'm also sure you can tell that I quoted a few lines of Beauty and the Beast.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating HAS been changed!
> 
> This chapter has been interesting. It was also the hardest to write since it's my very first explicit scene. Please go easy on me.

It had taken forever—possibly a few hours, give or take—to even be okay enough to stand. It would be a fiasco and a half if all of Storybrooke saw the infamous Professor Gold limping around town with his cane and a massive hard-on from Hell. An entire reputation, shattered within mere moments. All because of one girl named Belle French.

Good grief, just the thought of her had him twitching again. He needed to think of something else. _Mayor Mills in a tutu. Widow Lucas in lingerie._

_Archie Hopper getting lucky with Pongo in the middle of Storybrooke City Park._

Just like that, that part of him flopped back down in disgust.

What was it about this student of his that interested him so much? It was nothing like when he was with Milah. Milah, who loved nothing more than twisting vows and manipulating hearts. Milah, whose cold eyes nearly filled with glee when she delivered the punching news of, “I’m in love with someone better than you.”

That knife was still sharp enough to hurt. And he had vowed ever since then to never let a person get close enough to cause that much pain ever again.

And yet he’d love nothing more than to fuck a student that was twenty years his junior.

Adam sighed heavily as he climbed into his Cadillac and turned on the engine. He was lucky it was a Friday night. Two days to sit and come up with a game plan for Monday. He had considered getting Belle to be transferred to a different class, but he had to admit that that smile of hers was what motivated him to walk into that classroom door. But after that daydream of his, it was hard to figure out whether he should still do lectures or if they should all be subjected to thrice-weekly in-class essays.

If he did his lectures, it would hard to hide his…fascination.

If he sat the entire time, it would be easier to hide his problem, but he’d still have issues keeping it under control.

He could always quit.

Yeah, that idea had some merit….

A flicker of movement had Adam snapping out of his thoughts, his foot subconsciously moving to the brake. A small figure—a woman, it seemed—was trudging down the sidewalk, arms wrapped around her body in an attempt to shield herself from the wind. A small clip pinned some of her auburn curls back, leaving the rest of her hair flowing a little past her shoulders. Her short black pencil skirt stopped a little above her knees, a white blouse over her shoulders and black high heels on her feet. This woman had to be a complete idiot to be walking around in that kind of outfit in 43-degree weather—and in the dark, no less!

Adam rolled down his window. “A bit late for a stroll, dearie,” he called to her. “Only someone with half a brain would do something so ridiculous at this time of night.”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned her head.

His heart skipped a beat. “Belle?” he breathed. What in the hell was she doing?

“Seemed a good enough time for some fresh air,” came her quiet reply.

No. Adam Gold wasn’t one to care for the well-being of his students, but he’d be damned if he let something happen to this one! “Get in the car, sweetheart.”

Belle’s arms wrapped even tighter around her midriff. The action drew his attention to the massive tear in her button-up blouse that exposed her shoulder and a rose-colored strap. The sight had him clenching his teeth in anger. What happened to her?

“Why?” she asked, those blue eyes of hers narrowed in suspicion.

“It’s not safe.”

The woman stared at him for the longest time, and he longed to see what was going on in that mind of hers. She finally sighed heavily before stepping towards the passenger side’s door. “Fine.”

*~*~*

The drive was very quiet, and Belle was thankful the silence wasn’t filled with impossible questions to answer. She was also thankful that he was driving in the same direction she had been walking in, putting her further away from Garrett.

Garrett. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she thought of her boyfriend. It wasn’t the first time he had done something other than hitting her, but it still filled her with a sense of fear that threatened to steal the air from her lungs. Just the thought of what he could have done had her shuddering.

Professor Gold reached over to turn the heater up another notch. She didn’t bother to argue about it. She’d rather sweat it out than make a single step out of line. He hadn’t hurt her yet, but it wouldn’t surprise her if he did one day.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, a mansion that was much too big for one single man. Belle frowned at the color. “Why is it pink?”

“Hell if I know,” he muttered as he got out of the car.

The inside of the house was just as interesting as the outside, different antiques from different eras gracing the foyer. A hobby? Yet another side to her professor that amazed her. She spun in a small circle as she perused the items. A pair of creepy-looking puppets. A gauntlet that made her think of how modern-day people perceived the Middle Ages. She reached out a hand to run her fingers over a replica of a wand before Professor Gold’s cane lightly rested on her wrist. “Don’t touch,” he admonished.

Belle swallowed before taking a step back.

Gold was already making his way to another part of the house, calling over her shoulder, “Had anything to eat?”

Her stomach let out a growl of protest, and she hastily covered it with her hand as thought that would quiet it down. “I-I guess I could eat something,” she said before she could stop herself.

Upon following him, she saw him sticking his head in the refrigerator, lightly drumming his fingers on the door’s handle. “Anything you’re interested in?”

Belle shrugged her shoulders as she slid onto a barstool near the kitchen island, then realized he wouldn’t see the gesture before speaking. “I’m lucky if I’m able to afford a can of ravioli.”

Gold looked over his shoulder, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “The cat food wrapped in cardboard that only cost ninety-eight cents?”

“That’s the one.”

“God, it’s no wonder you’re so thin!” he commented. He closed the door with his elbow as he carried a plastic container towards her spot. “Try this.”

She looked at its contents, frowning at the pasta shells covered in some sort of a white sauce she’d never seen before and sprinkled with a thin layer of white shredded cheese. “What is it?”

“Trust me.” A fork was slid over to her.

Trust? Belle had never been able to trust a guy as far as she could throw him. The one she dated in high school was prone to cheating. Garrett was the most successful relationship she’d ever had…but trust? That was pushing it.

Trusting her professor, however…. There was something about this man that made her itch to do the impossible. There was some type of pull that she couldn’t explain. And it was that pull that had her grasping the eating utensil.

Her eyes widened at the flavor. “What is this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was mayo?”

“No.”

“Good. It’s not.” He patted her hand before beginning to walk into the living room, which was only a few paces away.

She spun around on her stool, watching him limp over to the couch. “What, so you’re just going to bring me to your house and feed me? That’s it?”

“What else is there?”

“Talking of course.” Belle shoveled a few more bites into her mouth before hopping down from where she sat, following him over to the black leather furniture and plopping down next to him. “How was your day?”

The man next to her actually turned a nice shade of pink. “I’d rather not go into that,” he muttered.

She frowned, curious about this change in demeanor. He seemed caught off-guard, something that seemed nearly impossible for someone with such a cruel reputation. A part of her wanted to probe and tease, but nothing good ever came from poking a sleeping bear with a stick.

At that moment, a black ball of fur decided to pump up on between the two of them, a trill sounding in the living room. A gold chain-like collar circled its neck, a small, circular charm of the same metal chained to it. Belle’s curiosity got the best of her as she touched the charm and read the three letters engraved on it. “Bae?”

“Balefire,” Gold elaborated as the cat tried rubbing his face against his owner’s.

Belle giggled as she climbed to her knees and reached out to scratch underneath Baelfire’s chin. “I never pegged you as a cat person, professor.”

“Most people don’t peg me as a person,” he quipped.

Her eyes narrowed at this, an unbidden surge of anger rising forth. She should be feeling impartial towards this man, this _beast_ that others have portrayed him as. But as it was, she found herself asking, “Why?”

“I’m a difficult man to love.”

Baelfire seemed to think this looked like a good time to jump off the couch, wandering off to another part of the living room to clean himself. Belle should have been thinking about moving away as well, but something had her learning towards God, looking into those impressive eyes that went half a shade darker.

An arm slid around her waist and slowly pulled her closer until she straddled his lap. His other arm reached up to thread through her hair, and Belle welcomed it as her lips were guided to his.

She let out a sigh at the taste of him, automatically comparing it to cool sips of water in the middle of a hot day. The spark of desire she felt while kissing him was stronger than anything she’d ever felt in her life, even after being in a relationship for four years, and it made her bring herself even closer until she was pressed against him.

Gold growled at the contact, lightly nipping her bottom lip and making her gasp. He automatically licked the spot to soothe the pain, but it was a pain she wanted more of. Belle reached her hand down to his pants and lightly stroked the hardness beneath her, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled it away before forcing out, “Don’t touch.”

She bit back a moan at his words, wanting nothing more than to feel him in her hand. All other thoughts fled, though, as Gold’s lips pressed against the side of her neck, and he proceeded to lick a spot there that made the air escape her lungs. His hands ghosted over the front of her blouse, and her breath became even shorter as she realized he was unbuttoning it. The top was then slid down until it caught at her elbows, and she felt his smile against her skin as he kissed her shoulder.

A finger touched the rose-colored strap of her bra as his other arm wrapped itself back around her waist, a laugh in his voice as he said, “Such a pretty color on you.”

Her face flamed even hotter as his finger trailed lower, the nail lightly skimming over her nipple, and she whimpered as she pushed herself even further onto him. Gold let out a chuckle as he leaned forward to press his mouth against her breast, the light laughter fading into a moan as his tongue flicked at her skin, the arm around her waist tightening even more and pulling her even closer. Belle went to move her arms so she could bury her hands into his hair, but the shirt held her immobile, frustrating her to no end as that merciless tongue kept tormenting her.

His hand shifted lower, slowly gliding over her stomach until at last he reached the edge of her skirt. The world around her ceased to spin, seconds slowing to a crawl, as he went even lower to the hem of that one piece of clothing, and reached under to touch her where she needed him most.

Gold stifled the moan she let out by lowering her mouth to his again, his hand once more burying itself into her hair, the fingers of his other hand playing her like a harp. All she could think to do was grind herself against his fingers, his answering growl spurring her on. But she still needed more. She needed him to actually _touch_ her.

He seemed to sense this, possibly felt that need himself, because the next thing Belle knew, her panties were being shifted to the side, and his thumb was brushing itself in an upward stroke against her clit.

His mouth wrenched away from hers, a look of awe in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Good God, you’re soaking!”

She leveled a glare at him as she wriggled her hips, trying to gain that friction again. “You’re killing me here!”

Gold looked a bit pensive, seemed like he was going to say something else before deciding against it. A smirk appeared on those devilish lips of his before dragging his thumb in another upward stroke. “Is that so, sweetheart?” he drawled.

She let out a low whine as he continued that same motion. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

The sound of his voice was enough to have her walls tightening, her end drawing near. _Just a little bit more…._

“I bet you’d like me to be inside of you, Miss French.”

She pushed herself even more onto his hand, trying her hardest to increase the pressure just the tiniest bit. She wasn’t aware of what came out of her mouth at that moment.

And just like that, he stopped.

Belle tried grabbing his wrist as he pulled away, everything within her begging for him to _please_ let her cum, and a pitiful whine escaped her before she could stop it. But by the time her shirt was covering her shoulders again, she had already given up trying.

What had happened?

Professor Gold held her shirt together with both hands, his eyes barely meeting hers as he let out a sigh. “I think you should go home now.”

Her breath caugh tin her chest, and it was then that she noticed the tears falling down her face. “What—?”

“Now, Miss French, “ he snarled.

It didn’t take long for her to scramble off of his lap, and she turned away from him before fixing her shirt the best she could. If she was going to be kicked out of his house, there was no need in doing so partially naked. Especially with it as cold as it was….

It was going to be a long walk home, that was for sure….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only say one thing: It was a major plot point. 
> 
> What's coming for our two protagonists? Thing's'll definitely be awkward for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared: This is one of the chapters in which I make use of my warning.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I took so long with posting this! I've been extremely busy with work. Any time I brought my notebook with me, I didn't have any desire to write...and any time I left it at home, that's when inspiration usually struck.

Adam hid his face in his hands with a groan. This wasn’t the first time he’d been a complete time, and it wouldn’t be his last. For God’s sake, he’d had perfection sitting astride him, practically _begging_ for more, and he’d fucked it up by freezing all because she’d whispered two words.

_“Oh, professor….”_

But that reaction of his couldn’t be helped. After being put down and berated by his ex-wife for almost twenty years, it was hard to believe that someone had willingly wanted him to touch them.

Especially his own student.

That was another thing, he figured with another groan. This _girl_ should be off-limits to him in every sense of the word. Any interaction they have outside of a student-teacher relationship was forbidden.

Besides, Belle would be graduating this semester if what Hopper says is correct. She would eventually fall in love, get married, have the life she’d always dreamed of….

And none of that involved a cranky old man with a limp and a cane.

Adam raised his gaze finally, his eyes landing on Baelfire. That bastard looked at him with narrowed green eyes, taunting his master and his newest failure in life, his tail frumping in displeasure. It was as if the feline was saying, “Way to go, asshole! You’ve ruined this once-in-a-lifetime chance!”

Yeah, Monday was going to be extremely hard to get through. _If_ she even showed up for class anymore.

Quitting sounded better and better the more he thought about it….

*~*~*

That disgusting concoction of hers sprayed out of her best friend’s mouth, and Belle mentally thanked Ruby for having the decency to turn her head before doing so. “You did _what?_ ”

So much for subtlety. Belle quickly gestured for her friend to keep quiet. “Not so loud!”

“Sorry! It’s not every day you hear that your best friend made out with her professor. Especially the asshole….”

“He’s not an asshole,” she defended. “Just…misunderstood.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I _misunderstood_ that evil glare he sent to another student. Boy, you sure know how to pick them.”

“She knows how to pick what?” Granny placed their breakfast in front of them. Belle had protested at first, but when Granny Lucas had given her a bone-chilling glare with nothing more than a demand that she be the one to pick up the tab, she had ducked her head and acquiesced.

Ruby looked at her grandmother. “Belle here had a tryst with another man last night.”

“No,” she protested, “it wasn’t like that! It was only a kiss!”

“So you mean to tell you that he had you—a willing victim!—in his house last night, and all you did was _kiss_?”

“Yes.”

“No touching, no groping, no nothing?”

Belle felt her face flame as she picked at the skin around her fingernails. “Yes.”

Ruby looked at her grandmother again. “She fucked him.”

“Ruby Anne!” Granny scolded at the same time Belle exclaimed, “I did not!”

Apparently, the other girl chose to ignore her parental figure, for she looked back at her friend and said, “You might as well have! There’s no way that…that _asshole_ could have kept his hands to himself!”

“Does Garrett know?” Granny interjected.

“Hell no!” Ruby answered instead. “Because that would require common sense!”

“Girl you better get out now. Because if he finds out beforehand, you might not live to see another day.”

“I’m not leaving him!” Belle finally said. “Garrett’s the be—”

“Don’t even say it!” Ruby interrupted. “he’s nowhere worthy of your time and devotion!”

“Ruby--!”

“Belle!” Her voice quieted a bit when she said, “Look, Belle. I love you like a little sister. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to see you go through all of this. I’m tired of seeing you get hurt.”

“I know. But Garrett cares about me.”

“No, he doesn’t! He’s brainwashed you into thinking that!”

Belle frowned. Brainwashing? Somehow, that didn’t seem right. Yeah, he’s hit her so many times, bound her and took advantage of her…but brainwashing?

No, that wasn’t brainwashing. That was punishing her, putting her in her place. Every blow that’s been delivered has been deserved because of a mistake she’s made. Every harsh word spoken was to reinstate the fact that she was nothing without him. It was him letting her know that he cared.

Right?

But…what if Ruby was telling the truth? That thought had hot tears pricking her eyes, the pain agonizing in itself. Ruby had always been the smart one, the bold one, in their friendship. She was hardly ever wrong when it came to matters of life. Could it be that this was another instance?

It all made her head hurt.

Ruby sighed after a while, then picked up her fork and sliced into her pancakes. “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

Belle shrugged and echoed the movements of her friend, thankful Granny had decided to walk away and tend to the rest of her diner. “Nothing much. I need to work on homework tonight. Professor Gold has another test for us on Wednesday, and I promised I would study.”

“Hoping to be rewarded if you pass?” The other girl waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Belle’s face started heating again as she remembered the taste of her professor’s lips, how his fingers brought her more pleasure than Garrett ever had. But she messed up somehow like she always has, and he had run her off. “I’ll be lucky if he even acknowledges me.”

A frown marred Ruby’s brow at this. “What do you mean?”

“He’s my professor. Nothing can come out of it.”

“Still, you never know.”

No, she knew plenty. From the way he acted, it was all a mistake. The best she could do is act as though nothing had ever happened. Maybe things would fix itself and they can go back to how things were in the past.

Even if all she wanted in the world was to have his arms wrapped around her again.

*~*~*

Belle wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall. Fifteen minutes into studying, and she was already confused! Understanding the different types of psychological disorders was the easy part. But remembering the different percentages of the population that had them? Not to mention the fact that she has to memorize what was called the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual Multiaxial Classification System!

(“Ha-ha! Say _that_ five times fast!” her brain had challenged.)

Garrett had come home not too long ago, and he had plopped down on the couch and immediately pressed the power button on his Xbox 360 controller. Silence passed between them as he shot at some virtual people in what Belle assumed was a near-apocalyptic warzone. She suppressed a shudder of disgust. How can people find such a thing so entertaining?

It wasn’t until a while later when the man next to her said, “I heard an interesting rumor today.”

She sighed inwardly as she flipped to the next page of her textbook. Conversation wouldn’t make this ordeal any faster, especially gossip from the town. But she decided to humor him as she proceeded to try and make sense of this ridiculous study guide. “Really? About what?”

“You.”

That one word, dripped with malice and disdain, made her blood freeze in place. Her brain scrambled to come up with words, but none refused to come out. It was as though she had been thrown into a state of paralysis, but all she wanted to do was run.

But there was nowhere _to_ run. And besides, running never did good in these situations.

“One of my buddies,” Garrett continued, “said that he saw you climbing into another man’s car last night.”

Unbidden, her mind flashed to her professor, how he had practically begged for her to get into his vehicle. How he had brought her to his house, how he touched her…. The memory of hit all was enough to make her blush. Whether it was out of embarrassment or shame, she couldn’t tell.

“Well?”

The increasing anger in her boyfriend’s voice had her snapping back to reality, and she turned her head to face him. “What?”

“Did you fuck him?”

“N—”

She cried out as the game controller connected with her face, her hand touching the sore spot under her left eye as the pain nearly blinded her. A hand gripped her hair and turned her to face him again. “Don’t lie to me, you filthy whore!” he roared.

“I’m not, I swear!” she cried as tears streamed down her face. And technically, she was being truthful, but she’d take the whole truth with her to the grave.

He shoved her to the floor, quickly grabbing her by the throat and holding her in place as he slapped her hard. “I bet you enjoyed it, slut.”

“Garr—” Her words were cut off has his thumbs dug into the hollow of her throat, the pressure preventing words from passing through.

“Did you like feeling his cock inside of you, Belle?” he asked quietly. “Did you like being on you back for another man?”

Belle grabbed him by the wrist, silently begging for him to let her go as her mind slowly grew fuzzy.

“You’ll never be nothing more than a whore,” he continued. “There’s no other purpose for you but to be fucked and discarded. I’m surprised you lasted this long. But you screwed it all up by being in another man’s bed. Do you realize how angry this makes me?”

She tried to speak again, to get him to stop, but all that escaped her throat was a tiny squeak. The increased pressure had little black dots appearing behind her eyes.

It was then that she realized that all resistance was futile. He was right. There was no use for her in the world. Not to Garrett. Not to Ruby. And especially not the man who had practically shoved her out his front door. In fact, she thought as she began to sink into the depths of unconsciousness, the professor had solidified Garrett’s words even more.

All of a sudden, the pressure around her throat loosened. Belle struggled to catch her breath, rolling over to her side and coughing. She almost didn’t hear Garrett’s humorless chuckle as he muttered, “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time on you.” He climbed to his feet, a smirk on his face as he continued. “I’m going to give you a while to reflect on what you’ve done wrong. And when I get back…maybe you’ll understand why no one says no to a Gaston.”

Belle brought her knees up, curling her body into a little ball as she heard the front door slam shut. It was then that she finally allowed herself to cry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be one of the shortest chapters in this fanfic.

She sighed heavily as she rested her head on the moldy wall, hot water from the shower pouring off of her in waves. It had seemed like hours before she had finally gotten up off the floor, steadily walked into the bedroom to grab the biggest bag she could find (a simple duffel, which was disappointing to say the least), and tried to stuff as much as possible into it that she could. Clothes, toiletries, her bank card that held a record-breaking $1.82 on it. She even made sure to grab her backpack with her textbooks before leaving. Being choked nearly to death had been a page-turner. While Garrett was right about the fact that she was nothing of use, something told her she had to get out and find a place to lie low for a while.

And for some reason, her traitorous deathtrap of a 2001 Honda Accord LX (complete with a rusty hood, a lack of a heater, and an engine that sounded like it could give out at any moment) wound up in the driveway of one of the last people she didn’t want to see for a million years.

_Ruby opened up the front door to the inn, her face soon morphing from displeasure to concern and then to horror at the sight in front of her. “Belle! What happ—”_

_“Can I use your washing machine? Mine broke,” Belle interrupted with a flippant shrug. Her stomach churned at the instant lie. After all of the years of friendship, this is the best she could do?_

_A frown mared the other girl’s brow as she opened the door further and let Belle in. She then led the way to the back of the building where the washer and dryer sat. Belle instantly got to work unloading the clothes from her bag, putting the powdered laundry detergent in, and setting the water on its coolest setting._

_Silence drifted in the air between them, nearly choking in its presence. She could feel eyes boring into her back the whole time. Ruby could smell something, Belle knew. She had often thought when they were kids that the other girl was part wolf._

_Of course, that had been chalked up to reading too many fairy tales._

_“Okay,” Ruby finally demanded. “Spill.”_

_“Spill what?”_

_There was an incredulous huff of breath behind her before the other girl said, “First of all, you’re in my laundry room at one o’clock in the fucking morning! I don’t care what you say, I call bullshit on the broken washing machine! Second of all, what’s with all those bruises? Especially that one under your eye!”_

_Her hand instinctively went up to touch the aforementioned spot, the bite of pain making her wince. Her friend had a point. All of this was a bit unusual for her._

_There was a touch at her arm, the sudden contact making Belle’s mind shift into overdrive and force her to move away. One look at Ruby’s face revealed another concerned frown. Belle sighed and pasted a small smile on her face. “I took your advice. I finally left Garrett,” she announced._

_All too quickly, she was engulfed into a large hug, a small squeak coming out of Ruby. “It’s about time!” She pulled back just enough to ask, “What prompted this?”_

_Belle looked away again, automatically recalling what Garrett had told her. How she was useless, how she could easily be discarded. All of them reigned true. But still…what_ had _prompted this?_

_“Oh,” Ruby said quietly. “What happened, Belle?”_

_“Nothing,” she lied. “I just got tired of being his personal punching bag. So I packed my stuff and left the house.”_

_“Do you need a place to stay the night?”_

_Crap. Somehow, she had forgotten about the fact that she needed a place to live. Going back to the apartment was out of the question, obviously. But Ruby couldn’t know this. “No, I have a place,” she said, lying for the second time to her only best friend in the world. The words tasted like a weird mix of copper and acid, burning and making her want to gag. But she swallowed that feeling down._

_What Ruby didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her._

Belle blinked away her reverie as the shower’s water suddenly turned chilling. Who knew that university-owned showers were so persnickety with the amount of the time their water stayed on one temperature? But it was time to get out anyway. Any longer and she’d be wrinkled from her head to her toes.

It had taken a few moments after her clothes were dried to figure out what her next move was. Moving in with Ruby would put so much guilt on her that it was ridiculous. There was no use in going back to the other apartment. Her father was gone, the house too run-down beyond recognition. There were literally no other options, she realized as she toweled herself off.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Despite the fact that autumn was setting into the state of Maine, Belle knew that she was either going to have to sleep in her car or nowhere at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where IS she? (I know the answer to this question because I'm the one who wrote it.) She's not at Ruby's, and she's not at home....
> 
> This chapter was originally going to be in Ruby's point of view...but I forgot I was going to go that route when I started writing. I hope this was okay enough! I'll post again as soon as I possibly can!


	11. Chapter 11

It was probably expected when she didn't show up for class on Monday, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. If anything, it hurt like a suckerpunch to the gut. Then again, he had pretty much kicked her out of his house. What woman would be pleased about  _that_?

A young woman--Carla Lucas's granddaughter, he remembered--had stopped by after class for a few questions about what was to be expected that Wednesday. Adam had to refrain from rolling his eyes and making a comment about how his student shouldn't be sending messengers, but why on earth would he stifle that urge? 

 _"I'm a friend of Belle's,"_ she had said. 

Miss Belle French had placed him under some sort of spell, it seemed. 

 Wednesday had him in front of his whiteboard, scrawling the class name and section number for any dimwit who had forgotten already. By the time he turned around, the sight of the girl sitting in that first row had his heart thundering in his chest. 

His teeth soon ground themselves together, his fists clenching as he felt the sudden urge to punch something. Or some _one._

Belle was wearing a white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and black slacks, not uncommon for the chilly weather as of late. But it was the purple bruise under her left eye and the mark that was quite obviously a handprint that gave him pause. 

He gathered up the test papers from his desk and stood in front of the room. All shuffling from the other students halted as soon as he cleared his throat. "Since this is the second test of the semester, I'm going to assume you already know how this works. All answers will be written in complete sentences as there are no multiple choice options or fill-in-the-blanks. You're all grown adults, so might as well get used to it. Cheating of any sort will  _not_ be tolerated. Any instances, and you'll be thrown out of the class and be failed for the rest of the semester."

If he had his way, they'd be expelled from the entire university. But he was neither the Dean of Students nor the president of this establishment. No, the ladies who held those positions insisted on coddling these students as though they were still babes living with their mothers. 

"The test begins as soon as the first paper is passed out. Once you're finished, put your papers on my desk and leave."

With that, he walked over to the only occupant of the first row and extended the test to her. 

Belle looked up at him with those startling blue eyes, and that anger inside of him spiked even more. What kind of bastard would willingly create those marks on her skin? Who would treat her as though she was less than the angel she truly was? 

Yep, she definitely had him under some sort of spell. Especially when he found himself muttering to her, "See me after class."

Usually, he would either sit at his desk and stare at his students in a condescending manner, or he would pace the floors and make them even more nervous than they already were. But today that desire was gone. He was the nervous one now, the one who was nearly reduced to twiddling his thumbs in an effort to make time go by faster.

The only sounds that filled the room were the scratching of pencils on paper and the occasional cough. Such noises tended to irk him because of the fact that they were so simple, so mundane. Why must graphite be so fucking annoying in such a quiet room? It echoed and pricked at his brain in a thousand different ways, and he just wanted the world to shut up for at least five minutes. 

Adam decided to let his eyes travel the classroom, paying half attention to the Jones boys in the back of the room, then straying to the Blanchard girl two rows ahead who looked swollen with child. He had heard rumors going around the small university of how she having a little girl with one of the Nolan twins, both of whom were also in the room. Emma, they had said the name was. 

When he finally landed his eyes on Belle, though, he couldn't help but wonder what a child with her would look like. It'd probably have her blue eyes and fiery spirit.

Adam frowned at himself just then. What business did he have thinking about his student in that way? He had only interacted with her a handful of times, and already his thoughts led him here? Besides, he was happy alone in his house with Bae. 

Wasn't he? 

~*~

 By the time she turned in her test paper, her head had been replaced by a pounding drum all Belle wanted to do was crawl into her car and sleep the rest of the semester away. Then she could graduate and... 

...and then what? 

Leaving town was an option, but with what money? Where would she go? What could she do? The only skills she had were breathing and just existing, which wouldn't prove to be of use in the long run. Perhaps she could stand on the nearest street corner. 

Was leaving Garrett really the best decision she could have made? 

The past few nights had been a dreadful haze. It was a miracle sleep had been accomplished. Temperatures dropped to nearly-unbearable degrees, and the only thing she had in her possession to attempt to keep her warm was a thin jacket she had tried wrapping almost her whole body into. On top of that, there were the phone calls and text messages from her boyfriend--no,  _ex-_ boyfriend. 

Some of the messages were sweet and had her considering going back to him. Messages of love and "I'm sorry, baby" and "I miss you" and "It'll never happen again". Others, though, had her wanting to throw her phone and stare at it until the ground swallowed it whole. 

_"The moment I find you, you're gonna wish you'd never been born!"_

_"Yeah, that's right, who're! Run back to your pimp!"_

_"Don't worry. Soon he'll realize how worthless you truly are."_

And it was in those moments when she didn't want to be alone, where she just wanted to call Ruby and cry and beg for her best friend to sit with her for a while until she fell asleep. But they weren't kids anymore. Ruby had her own problems with school and working at the diner.

 She placed the three-page test on her professor's desk, resisting the inner voice that told her to rub. But he had asked to see her, and who was she to turn down an order? 

Professor Gold cleaned his throat as he picked up the test, spinning it around so he could properly look at the top page. "I trust you did better this time." The statement had a bit of a question hidden deep within. 

Belle shrugged her shoulders. "At least I had a way to study. I can't promise perfection. Thing got...a bit out of hand this weekend."

He finally glanced up at her, his brow furrowing the smallest bit. "I can see that."

She shifted her gaze away from his, digging her nails into the sides of her fingers as she tried to focus on his handwriting (or what could hardly be  _called_ handwriting) on the whiteboard behind him. "Is there any reason you wanted to see me, professor?"

"Call me Adam."

Her eyes shifted back to him as she let life a small gasp, her face growing hotter at his words. A blush had also grown on his face, and and couldn't help but think he looked adorable when he was embarrassed. It seemed as though he hadn't been expecting those words to come out of his own mouth. 

He then cleared his throat again before saying, "I should apologize for my actions when...you were visiting. It was uncalled for, and I'm sorry."

If Belle didn't know any better, she'd say that the man was trying to sink into his chair and disappear. But that was absurd! This was the man who could silence a crowd with a glare, the one who took pride in making others squirm in fear. 

The one who could make her world spin a thousand and one directions just by using his mouth and fingers.

She gave another shrug that she prayed came across as nonchalant. "There's nothing to apologize for. If anything, I probably deserved it."

Professor Gold-- _Adam_ , she reminded herself--clenched his jaw. He stood up and walked around the desk until he was standing in front of her, close enough for her to catch that intoxicating scent that belonged to only him, and he raised his hand. 

Belle flinched, that mastered instinct unable to be pushed back, her heart pounding a million times a minute. But the fear soon transformed into shame as he gently pressed his hand against the side of her face, his palm encompassing the span of the mark placed there.

"No," Adam said softly. "You didn't."

He was talking about something completely different, and they both knew it. Her throat tightened with unshed tears at the barely-masked fury in the professor's eyes. And if was that instant when she felt safe and sound, protected.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, Belle," he murmured. 

A million thoughts raced through her mind.  _I need Garrett to stop harassing me. I need something in my life to go right for once._

_I need a refuge._

An incessant buzzing began in her pocket, pausing only briefly before starting up again. Garrett. 

Belle backed away slowly, mourning the loss of his touch. But she had to protect him. It was the only way. "I'll be fine," she lied. 

The man before her quirked an eyebrow, yet didn't protest. It was a look she began to recognize as him saying, "We'll see about that." But verbally, he told her, "Tests will be graded by Friday. You'll have to come to class to receive it. I don't post grades online like the other professors."

She cast him a small smile. "Why? Love seeing your students squirm?"

A light chuckle escaped her professor's lips, a glint of humor appearing in those eyes. "If you must know, sweetheart," he responded, Belle's pulse lightly skipping a beat at the endearment, "it's because I have no use for technology." He winked. "Besides, there's bother ways I can get my students to squirm."

The heat on her face intensified, his words fueling her imagination. She didn't know whether she wanted to run fast from him or climb on his desk and ask that he follow through with his hidden intent. 

The buzzing in her pocket started up again, breaking her free from her trance. Her hand covered the fabric-ensconced phone out of reflex, absolutely uncertain of what to do. It could be Garrett once again for the millionth time, or it could be Ruby for once. One of those options made her more sick than the other. 

Adam inclined his head in a slight nod, his eyes on the hand at her pocket, the rest of his expression now a smooth mask. "You should probably get that. Must be important."

Belle inwardly sighed as she withdrew her tiny flip phone, casting a glance at the tiny Caller ID screen that lit up. 

_Garrett._

Just one look at the name made it hard to breathe, thoughts rushing through her head faster than she could focus on them. What will he say this time? Is it wise to let it go to voicemail, or should she answer? Should she go back home and act like she never left? What if all of this was a bad idea? 

The phone made the decision for her, becoming quiet again and alerting her to a second missed call. 

"I..." she began to say, only for her voice to come out as a croak. She cleared her throat. "I guess I need to head out. I'll be back on Friday."

Adam's eyes narrowed a slight bit, but he answered with a nod instead of the question she knew he wanted to ask.  _Is everything okay?_

No, she knew as she went to grab her belongings. Nothing would ever be okay ever again. The answer was coming firmed as she looked at her messages that night, fear painting her dreams as four words followed her like shadows in the night. 

_You can't hide forever._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Writing the beginning of the last part of the chapter gave me a mild panic attack. Mild description of violence. Proceed with caution.
> 
> Also, I apologize in advance for any typos in this chapter. My laptop is out of commission, so I'm typing it all on my phone. Not only that, but two morning shifts in a row has me about to pass out right now. Lol!

Seven-thirty was way too early to be standing outside, and she had to resist the urge to jump up and down just to get her blood flowing. The thin jacket she wore was barely enough to ward off the 42° chill in the air, an outrageous temperature that seemed to magnify and become colder than what it should be. Then again, this was October in Maine, and it would only get worse from here. 

The building she was standing outside of just happened to be where they housed the overflow of students who couldn't fit into the main dorms. It was amazing, considering how small of a town Storybrooke was. This particular building could only be accessed by the very students who resided inside it by way of a scanner that checked their student IDs. Belle's ID would only be rejected, so her only other option was to stand outside and wait for someone to either enter or exit the back door. 

Right on cue, the white door opened and a blonde head popped out. "You okay?" the girl asked. 

Giving her best sheepish grin, Belle ducked her head and muttered, "Left my card in my room."

The girl smiled widely and nodded her head. "I get it. It happens a lot."

It was oddly comforting and concerning at the same time, she thought as she shouldered her bag and stepped inside the brick building. There were no ID checks, no line of questioning. Just the slightest acknowledgement and acceptance of a white lie and anyone could get in. 

And she could get a shower that she'd been practically dying for.

Belle sighed in relief as she walked through the heated hallway. She had come in here a few times before to use their community showers, the first of which was the night she left the apartment she and Garrett had shared together. The night she had lied to Ruby about having a place to stay (which technically wasn't a lie, if she had to be honest with herself). Yeah, this place wasn't the cleanest in the world, but it had hot water (most of the time) and was a place she could let her guard down for a while and pretend nothing had ever happened, that she was just a regular student. 

Until she looked in the mirror and noticed the ugly purple-turning-yellow marks on her face and neck. Then it took everything within her not to break down and cry right then and there.

The whole building was created in the late 1930's and was once an all-girl's housing facility. Over time, it got changed to co-ed like the rest of the housing facilities on the campus, only girls were on one wing and boys were on the other. In the middle of each hallway were the bathrooms where the toilets and showers were located. The only person who had a shower and toilet built in to their dorm was the head RA, the one who monitored the whole one-floor facility. Every once in a while, that one room would be eyed with a mixture of longing and jealousy, because who wants to walk barefoot on a floor covered in mold and germs? 

Circumstances being what they were, though, Belle didn't care about those things. At this point, survival was what mattered, luxury be damned. All she really needed was a clean body once in a while, a glass of water, a small portion of what could be considered food, and at least two hours of unbroken sleep per night.

So far, she was lacking the latter.

And she had Gold's class to deal with today. 

_Hooray._

~*~

 It felt like someone had taken a rubber band and double-looped it around his head, and this pathetic excuse of a class wasn't making it any better with their senseless chatter. The Jones boys, Keith Nottingham, and the Nolan twins kept going on about the upcoming football game they were going to star in this weekend. A few of the other classmates bragged about how they were going to get "so wasted", which is ironic considering the papers he had them do a while back about the dangers of college-age drinking. The only person who wasn't talking was Belle. 

Belle, who had her head propped up on her arm, eyes closed to the world. 

Normally, he didn't tolerate anyone sleeping in his class, but the girl worried him. 

Adam walked over to his desk with a disgruntled sigh, picking up the stack of test papers that had been sitting there since Wednesday evening. Most professors preferred scantrons. He believed scantrons made it til easy for the students. Besides, he had a sick sense of joy when it came to slathering test papers with scathing remarks in ink that was similar in color to blood. They were all a bunch of dimwits (well, except for those who happened to fucking  _try_ ), which made it even more enjoyable for him to bare his teeth and demand they actually study for once in their pathetic lives  

He walked back over to where Belle snoozed (he had to admit that she looked adorable like that, but never to her or anyone else besides Baelfire) and gently nudged her with the papers. This earned him the slow opening of her eyes, a small wrinkle of her nose in dazed confusion, followed by a faint blush as she met his gaze. He gave her a brief wink before he could stop himself, furthering the embarrassed tint to her cheeks, and slid her test on her desk until it caught under her elbow. Then he directed his attention back to the rest of the room and cleared his throat. 

The noise died down instantly. 

"Afternoon, class," Adam began, missing the adjective on purpose as his head continued to pulse rhythmically to the beat of his heart. "I'm sure you're all wondering the results of your tests."

There was a chorus of groans, and he ground his teeth together in an attempt to keep himself from exploding on them. Instead, he continued. 

"I put your tests in the order in which you are seated. Pass them to the person behind you, and when you reach the end of the row, hand them to the person to your right, and they'll pass them down to the front. So on and so forth."

Another groan from Killian. "There's not a chance you could have given us a curve, huh, mate?" he muttered.

Adam swore if he clenched his jaw even more, his teeth would break. "No," he growled, "because I believe that would be cheating you academically." He directed his next words to the rest of the class again. "I expect you to follow these directions. Don't scatter your papers to your friends; I ordered them this way to avoid confusion." And then he handed the papers to the person behind Belle before turning around to go towards his whiteboard. 

The moment his hand touched the eraser, he knew he should have kept an eye on these children to make sure they didn't screw up. What else could come out of hushed whispers that sounded and awful lot like, "Dude, can you hand me mine?"

Lo and behold! the sight that greeted him was what he expected from them, and it was enough to send his blood boiling in rage. Various people had their tests while large patches of students glanced around in confusion. The system that was so simple that even trained monkeys could possibly pull it off was pretty much reduced to chaos. Adam couldn't stop himself from walking to the first row of empty desks, mustering all of his strength into  _throwing_ two of the desks to another side of the room (if people had been sitting there, it wouldn't have mattered; they'd be sent flying, too), and slamming his cane on the desk occupied by a red-haired girl, who responded with a squeak. "You couldn't follow simple directions?" he bellowed. 

The room went silent again, the air tinged with anticipation. 

"The lot of you are nothing but babes who have no general capacity in your tiny brains for common sense! I told you what you had to do, and it's like you didn't hear a single word! 

~*~

 All it took was the smack of wood hitting wood to make her brain lose focus. The sound of yelling filled her ears and had that metallic taste of fear filling her mouth. Everything told her to run. Everything told her to hide. Everything within her told her to stay where she was at and deal with the pain she knew would follow. 

And it always did. Even during the time she had made birthday muffins for Garrett one morning, lightly-blackened at the tips because she had been engrossed in a book at the time. There came the yelling, the grabbing of the still-hot tin, and he had hit her repeatedly with the scalding metal, food flying everywhere and her pleas for him to stop not being answered. 

The bruises and burns had taken weeks to heal. But she had learned never to cook and read at the same time ever again. 

A touch to her shoulder broke her out of her trance with a gasp, and she looked to her left to see Adam sitting in the desk next to her in the now-empty classroom, concern written in every line of his features. The expression only made her tense up even more, her eyes narrowing as she prepared to rush out at any moment. 

"Belle."

Her name came out as a breath her ringing ears straining to catch that one syllable. 

It took him a moment longer for him to say in that same quiet voice, "I'm sorry."

They were words she had heard every day, it seemed like, for years. It was usually followed by something like, "But you know better than to...." The casual shifting of blame. 

_"I'm sorry, Belle. But you know better than to talk to me when I'm playing video games."_

_"I'm sorry, Belle. But you know better than to add too much salt."_

_"I'm sorry, Belle. But you know better than to call me when I'm with my buddies."_

But the words never came. 

And it scared her more than it probably should have.

Adam took a deep breath and adjusted his position in the desk he sat in, stretching out his left leg with a slight grimace of pain. But brown eyes met blue as he said, "I'm not going to say that'll never happen again. That'd be a lie. But it's never going to be directed towards you."

She cocked her head, her mind spinning even faster to try and calculate this new information. This wasn't fitting the pattern she was used to. Where were the deprecating remarks, the act of re-directing his anger onto her? 

Maybe he was biding his time. Yeah, he'd promised he wouldn't hurt her, but it could be a simple ploy. She'd eventually lower her reserves and then--

Belle jumped out of her desk the second his hand reached out towards her, and she pressed herself against the wall right beside her seat, her heart thundering even faster, her hands unable to stop shaking. Was there a change in plans? Did he mean to take back that so-called promise of his? Maybe she should say something. 

"I'm sorry." Her voice came out as a croak, and she tried smiling to soften the blow of her actions. The sides of her mouth struggles to stay turned upwards. And dammit, she couldn't stop  _shaking._ "Reflex."

His frown deepened, if that was at all possible, his jaw clenching. "A defense mechanism," he almost growled. 

She forced out a small laugh. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't want to say anything before, but this is too much. Who's hurting you?"

Her brow furrowed. "Nobody." And that was true. Nobody was hurting her. Now, at least.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I doubt that bruise came from colliding into a door. When I put my hand there the other day, it matched perfectly."

She didn't say anything.  _Couldn't_ say anything. In fact, all she could do was close her eyes, lower her head, and try to steady her breathing. 

It was a long moment before Adam said, "If you need a place to stay--"

"I have a place to stay," she whispered, her voice unable to go any louder. 

Another pause. "If you're sure."

"Yes."

Silence again, and then a creak of wood, shuffling, and a rhythmic tapping as he came closer. "Here."

She opened her eyes to see her test paper right in front of her. In the top right corner was a circled 85 B-minus. A major improvement compared to the 2% on the first exam. 

A glance to Professor Gold's face showed a small smile. "I'm proud of you, Belle."

She gave a small laugh and a self-deprecating smile. "Not bad for having no general capacity for common sense, huh?"

Just like that, his face darkened again, the corners of his lips turning downward. She resisted the urge to step forward and kiss that smile back in place. "That wasn't directed towards you."

She shrugged at him. "I know who I am. Consider me lucky that I know my place." Her hand reached out to grab the packet of stapled papers, trying to still her traitorous heart as their fingers brushed. It confused her how even after that brief panic attack, she was still effected by his touch. "Until next time."

A small moment passed before the man before her gave a small nod of his head and parroted, "Until next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry I took too long to post updates! Things have been hectic! I *was* writing it at work, but then my backpack was banned because there were suspicions of theft were made. (I'm not that type of person, but Corporate doesn't know that.) Then my then-fiancé and I went on a cruise, we started going back to church, then my father (whom I did not speak to for two years, and I regret every day) passed away, I started subbing in October, got married that same month (*sighs dreamily*), AND dislocated my left knee in December. So...now I know how Mr. Gold feels, only I no longer need a walking aid. (It sucks, by the way.)
> 
> I'm trying to write more in my spare time, but I'm having trouble stringing thoughts together. I know where I want to go, but I don't know how to get there. Please be patient, and I promise I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks, guys!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey! Another update within two weeks! I haven't done that in a while! Well, ever since I got a replacement laptop (temporary), I've felt a spark of inspiration. It was really the previous two chapters I was having trouble writing in the first place. Now that I wrote a chapter outline last week while I was subbing at a high school (thank God for second jobs), I think I'm looking at another three to four chapters after this. Maybe I'll do short little ficlets of what happens during some of the chapters, but I'm not sure yet.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The weeks flew by faster than Belle could comprehend. The nights bled into days, the only thing alerting her to what day it was being the copious amounts of papers, assignments, and tests. Most of them were fairly easy by being discussion board questions online, where she could go to the computer lab to complete them. Papers could be printed from the same location, and it didn't cost her money out-of-pocket since the lab fee was included in the list of necessary items covered by financial aid.

A look at her bank account a while back a while back had Belle cursing the idea of a joint account shared with Garrett. While her financial aid refund had been direct-deposited ages ago, it came as a shock to find out as she was attempting to buy feminine toiletries that her card (which had housed at least $1,200) was declined. A call to the bank had revealed that Garrett had exercised his right as the primary name on the account and canceled her card. A bit of snooping had her finding out that out of $1,200 in the bank account, all but $2 had been used at GameStop and the neighborhood liquor store.

So now she was back to the drawing board: huddled int he backseat of her freezing car at night, burrowed beneath the sorry excuse for a blanket she had found in the university's Lost-N-Found box not too long ago. Food had been scarce to come by, and those concerned looks Ruby gave her every time she claimed to have eaten before she came to the diner didn't help in the slightest. But while the younger Lucas looked concerned, the elder Lucas wasn't afraid to level her with a glance that said, "I'm not stupid, girl" before plopping down a plate of pancakes.

"Maybe it'll help you develop some common sense," Granny griped as she stalked off.

But one Tuesday in early November, Belle was rifling through her backpack when she stumbled across a $5 bill sitting in the front pouch. There was a burning anger in her chest as she stared at it. It was one thing to feed her out-right once in a while, but it felt borderline offensive to receive money like she was some sort of charity!

The anger dissipated a bit the moment her stomach growled. The more she thought about it (and salivated at the thought of something _decent_ to eat instead of stale bread or anything else she could find outside of Granny's), the more she figured that she'd be the one slapping her benefactor in the face if she didn't take the offering.

It happened again on Thursday, and a $10 bill was found on Saturday as she worked on her weekend assignments at the school. It still felt weird to use another person's money, but Granny never said anything about it, so neither did Belle.

Washing clothes at Ruby's was another weekly routine. The older girl would ask each time if Belle would be willing to get a room at the inn, and each time she would decline and say she had a suitable place to stay.

"Are you sure? Granny could get you a room free of charge since you're basically family."

Belle shook her head again. "I'm sure, Rubes. You and Granny have done so much for me over the past few weeks--"

"Try years," Ruby interjected.

"--and I still can't thank you enough."

"Yeah, well...I feel like we're not doing enough," Ruby sighed. She shrugged. "I worry about you more than you realize. You're like a sister to me, and I want to do everything I can to protect you."

Belle frowned. She knew it was hard on her best friend of almost fifteen years, but she never knew the full extent of it until now. It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt everything, to mention how deep this truly was.

_"You can't hide forever."_

Just like that, she reigned everything back in. Garrett knew where Ruby was. If he meant what he said, Ruby wasn't safe if Belle stayed at the inn. She knew how ruthless he was. No one else knew the half of it besides the marks they've seen on her face. If they knew how bad it truly was, they wouldn't make the offers they did.

She had to keep the only family she had left safe.

Belle pasted on her best smile. "I'll be fine. I promise."

*~*~*

Adam sighed heavily as he tapped his fingers on the desk. Perhaps he ran her off this time. It wasn't his intention to, not now that she's wheedled her way this close to his blackened heart. He didn't even try to stop his feelings anymore. If he hadn't been able to cast her out of his mind by now, there was no hope in trying.

He should have known better than to offer help to her in the way he had, though. Logic had told him that if she couldn't afford her books, she couldn't really afford much for food, either. And he couldn't let her waste away in front of him, could he?

For the first week, it had gone well. She looked like she hadn't suspected a thing. There was a gleam in her eyes that he hadn't seen in weeks, if not at all, and she looked more attentive.

But now it was Friday of the next week, and she hadn't shown.

He had been tempted to write an e-mail demanding where she was, or maybe track down the Lucas girl and get information out of her, acting as the concerned professor who wanted nothing more than a full roster sheet. But he told himself that he was past that now. This bordered on new territory he hadn't crossed, not even when he fell in love with Milah.

Maybe she'd be back on Monday. Maybe this was something that occurred once in a blue moon. After all, she'd taken off once before. And doesn't every student take a much-needed break once in a while?

Adam frowned. He knew the answer to that like he knew the back of his hand: Students typically take too many breaks, none of which are necessary. If it wasn't a family emergency, it wasn't worth the missed days. And even that was pushing it.

But with Belle, it's different. He's seen the bruises, the somewhat-minuscule reactions. He's seen the desire to stay strong even when the world is crashing down. And it's because of all that that she's an exception to the rule. 

It's the fact that she's a student-- _his_ student--that gives him pause. He shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't feel the (un)natural urge to protect her because of this. Yet it's something that couldn't be helped. Especially every time she flashes him those blue eyes of hers.

Adam sighed again and slumped in his chair. Why didn't he resign when he had the chance? 

*~*~*

She rolled over for the thousandth time that night, desperately trying to get comfortable in the nearly-cramped backseat of the Honda Accord that had become her home. A quick glance at the display screen of her obsolete flip-phone had her muttering a curse at the time.

11:51pm.

She'd been at this for almost an hour now.

Belle flopped on her back with a deep sigh of frustration, watching the billow of cold air form in front of her face. It wasn't exactly the small space that was getting to her. It was also the freezing temperature. There was no possible way to get warm with the resources she had, and turning on the car's heater was pointless seeing how it was non-existent. The money she got back from the school could have helped replace some of the parts if it wasn't for Garrett's habit.

Then again, if she'd stayed where she was at, she wouldn't have to go through this mess. She wouldn't have to worry about whether or she was putting Ruby in danger. She wouldn't be practically dreaming of warm covers, barely-decent meals out of a can, a devoted boyfriend who let her know daily how special she was to him.

Yeah, part of his attentions weren't as wanted as the professor's, but at least she was cared for.

She stretched out her fingers and toes as she felt them grow colder, something she had experienced more than once before as the nights' temperatures dropped. Normally putting her hands between her knees helped, but it wasn't working tonight for some reason. Perhaps one of her socks had a hole in them. Granny could possibly teach her how to patch it up tomorrow.

Belle curled up into her blanket even more, trying to conserve as much body heat as she could. Tomorrow would be a good day to make use of her food money. Scrambled eggs, a hot cup of tea to help ward off the chill.... Winter would be here soon. Maybe she could pick up knitting and make a scarf and some gloves. The thought of a forty-foot, multi-colored scarf adorning her neck, similar to the one on the show Papa used to love to watch, made her smile.

Her bladder chose that time to remind her of its presence. If it had been twenty minutes ago, maybe she could have had the energy to leave the car and gone inside the building to relieve herself. As it was, she had finally gotten comfortable and found it hard to move from the position she was in. It could wait, right?

It might have to, she figured as her eyes slid closed. Everything within her finally craved sleep, even as she continued to shiver under the blanket. Just five minutes. Five minutes of dozing was all she needed before she would get up and take care of things....

It was so cold.... So cold.... 

*~*~*

He shrugged on his coat as he stepped into the cold night, wincing in pain at every step forward he took with his left leg. Cold weather typically did this to him, had him leaning on his cane far more than he should, cursing his dependency on the thing. The old injury never quite healed the right way, never ceasing what others might call a "creaky door-hinge feeling". Doctors had told him that's what usually happened to an injury like his--the fluid behind the kneecap drains out, leaving the joint and the bone to grind against each other. Surgery could be done to help fix it, but it wasn't worth the extra hours of therapy he'd have to go through afterwards.

So it became one of those daily things he dealt with, the self-loathing just about the same as his feelings towards almost all of his students. God forbid if he had to walk up the stairs like he has to at home, which is why he's thankful for the university's elevators. Meanwhile, at home he usually stays downstairs until it's time to go to bed. After all, there's no use in making too many unnecessary trips up and down the stairs.

Adam narrowed his eyes as he got closer to his car and noticed it wasn't alone. Not too far away was a white car with a rusted-over roof. It was too late for the rest of the sane professors to be here, and students don't normally park in this parking lot unless they were going to class. The housing facilities were all the way on the other side of campus.

Was someone trying to be funny? 

He limped his way over to the other car, placed his hand on the tinted window, and rapped at the door with his cane. "Excuse me," he called.

Silence. No rustling or any other noise.

He knocked again, calling louder, "Excuse me!"

Nothing. 

Adam exhaled a heavy breath. "I don't believe this," he muttered to himself as he leaned forward to peer closer into the window. "How can they just--"

His words froze in his throat like ice in the cool air. The figure in the car looked very familiar, but he has to be wrong. It couldn't be....

"Belle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any medical inaccuracies hidden in here. I did as much research as I could, but I know I still did a few things wrong. Thanks, guys!
> 
> Also! I would like to sing praises for a little nifty piece of technology known as the Rocketbook Wave! It looks like an ordinary notebook, but you can take pictures of the pages using the Rocketbook Wave app and it'll save it to Google Drive or wherever you want it to go. Even better is the fact that once you're done with the notebook, you DON'T have to buy another one! You can just fill up a coffee mug 3/4 full, put it in the microwave, follow the extra directions (I think it's 20 seconds on each side, but I'm not sure), and PRESTO! The notebook will be clean again! The only other condition is that you have to buy the Pilot FriXon pens found at Walmart or any other office supply store. It uses a special ink that can erase using both the pen's eraser and the microwave.
> 
> The notebook is available on Amazon for $30. Pretty cheap, I know! But it's soooo worth it! I don't have to worry about pulling out a bulky notebook just to type up my chapters; instead, I can just pull up Google Drive on my phone and use my handwritten notes that way. Give it a try!
> 
> (No rights to the notebook belong to me. Consider this a simple review on a product. Thank you!)


	14. Chapter 14

It took a couple of tries before he was able to break the glass, cursing as some of it rained down on the young woman, praying he wasn't too late. It would be impossible for him to carry her to his own car with his leg the way it was; he would end up falling and send them both careening to the ground, likely hurting her more that he'd wish to and making him more useless than he already was.

A quick perusal of the car revealed an old flip phone that he instantly reached over to grab. A push of a button revealed three  voice mails and eight text messages. The  voice mails and seven of the text messages were from a guy called Garrett. What Adam saw of what he had written made him want to punch the little brat in the face. Some were threats, others were messages of love and devotion, and more than one bordered on sexual  harassment.

The last and most recent message belonged to a girl named "Rubes".

"Hey grl let me no when u wke up so we can go get bfast at G's"

Oh good God, does no one know how to write in proper English anymore?

Putting aside any harsh comments he could have made, Adam scrolled  through the phone's contacts until he found the right one, hitting the green Talk button to patch the call through.

"Belle?" came the concerned greeting.

"Come get her?" Adam practically snarled.

"What? Who is this? Where's Belle?"

"This is her psychology professor. She's in her car in front of Midas Hall. You need to come quickly because I'm not sure how much longer she has before she freezes to death."

"In her...?" the young woman began slowly. There was a loud  thump , a shriek of, "That bitch!" punctuated by a click  signaling the call had been disconnected.

Putting the phone to the side, Adam reached towards his freezing student, mustering all of his strength into pulling her as close to him as he could. Belle let out a light moan as she pressed herself further into his touch, a stark-white hand clutching the lapel of his suit jacket. "Adam...?" she whispered, her voice raspy.

His grip became tighter, and he pressed a light kiss to her hair. "Help is coming soon."

"'M fine," she murmured. "'M sleepy...."

"You have to stay awake, sweetheart."

Her only response was a light shiver as she slumped even further against him. Adam pressed his lips to her head again as he prayed for Ruby and her grandmother to get her soon. It was starting to get hard for him to ward off the chill himself....

*~*~*

"What is the meaning of this?" Carla barked.

Adam positioned his cane in front of himself as a makeshift barrier between him and the older Lucas. "I fail to understand what you're talking about."

"Why are you wanting to keep her here instead of letting her come home with me? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of her myself!"

One of the many blessings of living in a small town was how quick the  calvary was able to come. It hadn't taken long for Carla and her granddaughter to come  barreling through the parking lot in that red  monstrosity they called a car. From there, the two had carried the unconscious Belle from her car over to his, and they followed him to his house with the dire warning that they'd be demanding answers.

Belle was put on the couch downstairs, draped in the thickest blankets he owned with water bottles tucked underneath her arms and a heating blanket pressed against her lower abdomen, a fire roaring in the fireplace. Her color was slowly coming back to her skin, which filled him with relief.

Relief and not a small bit of frustration. Frustration at the girl on his couch and his newest guests.

"If she wanted a room at your sad excuse for an inn, don't you think she would have gone by now instead of resorting to becoming a human icicle?" he drawled.

"If I had known it was going to be this bad, I would have brooked no argument."

"That being said, it's obvious she's running from someone."

"I would have protected her from frostbite  _ and _ that pathetic ex-boyfriend of hers!"

Adam huffed out a laugh. "Please! What weapons would you have used? A rusty frying pan?"

"I happen to have a crossbow."

"I wouldn't trust you to aim that at the boy's face even if it was two feet in front of you."

Ruby chose that time to speak up. "Enough!" she commanded.

Not another insult was fired as they looked at her.

She sighed heavily. "Look. We all know things could have gone  _ a lot  _ differently. Let's just go over our options and go on from there. Professor Gold is right. Belle was running from Garrett. She wouldn't get a room at the inn no matter how much I begged her. Now that I think about it, that would have been the most obvious thing for an abuse victim to do. Garrett knows Belle and I are best friends. That would have been the first place he'd be looking."

While Adam was glad his suspicions were correct, he wasn't enthused with the knowledge presented to him. If anything, it made him even more sick.

"Then why hasn't he come looking for her yet?" Carla asked.

Ruby shrugged. "He might be biding his time. Belle knows him better than we do. I don't blame her for wanting to sleep in her car. The most she could have done, though, is use her brain and realize it starts to fucking freeze this time of year in Maine."

"Judging by the evidence," Adam said, "I think it would be wise for the girl to stay here until the worst is over. The young man won't suspect his former lover to be in the same house as her college professor. That," he finished, looking at the grandmother, "and at least I know how to fucking aim."

She only looked at him with a glare that could melt bricks, folding her arms over her chest with a huff.

The granddaughter walked over to her best friend and smoothed a stray hair away from Belle's face. Witnessing such a tender moment squeezed his heart, the pain making him want to walk out of the room, but he held is ground. She pressed a small kiss against the unconscious girl's hairline before smiling and whispering, "I love you, sis. Stay safe." But then she turned towards him, leveling with a look of determination before saying, "If you so much as lift a hand to hurt her, you'd wish you'd never been born."

He nodded in reply. "I'd be surprised if you didn't."

She nodded back. "Good," she muttered, but now the corners of her mouth were quirked up the smallest bit. "Keep us updated. We'll be worrying."

"Yes, Miss Lucas."

*~*~*

Her body jolted as something heavy bounded on her chest, confusion thrumming through her as it felt like something was kneading her left breast, followed by a light rumbling sensation. She would have ignored it if it wasn't for something fuzzy nuzzling against the space between her chin and her neck.

Wait.  _ Fuzzy? _

Belle slowly blinked open her eyes to see a ball of black fuzz perched on top of her, a gold chain collar looped around its neck. Three small letters were visible on the round gold piece hanging from the chain.

"Bae?" she asked as she sat up. "What are you doing here?"

It was then that she noticed the blanket pooled around her lap, the couch she was lying on, the fireplace. Where was she...?

"Oh, you're awake!"

The voice nearby wrangled a cry from her throat, the black cat quickly jumping down in response. Her heart picked up even more as the silhouette of Professor Gold crossed the room and deposited a tray on the coffee table nearby. "I--I didn't see you," she stammered.

"I hope you slept well?"

Belle ran a hand over her face as she contemplated her answer, wasting time by shifting on the couch until her feet touched the floor. Her body still felt heavy even after.... "How long was I asleep?"

"Only a few hours. We had to keep you awake in order to get you to wake up."

"'We'?"

Adam nodded. "Carla and Ruby Lucas  helped get you out of your car."

She frowned as she slumped back on the couch cushions. This whole conversation was exhausting her even though it had barely even started. "Why did you have to take me out of my car? I was fine."

"Sweetheart." He came closer, shifted the tray to the side a bit so he could perch himself on the coffee table. "Belle, you were freezing to death. If I hadn't found you when I did, there's no telling what could have happened."

"It's cold every night. I survive just fine."

"You could have told me earlier you needed a place to stay."

"I told you I had one."

He shook his head, exasperation written on the features of his face she could see  through the glow of the fire. "That wasn't safe enough."

She shrugged her shoulders. "As far as I could see, that was my safest bet."

There was a barely audible exhale from the man across from her. Seconds ticked by in silence before he gestured towards the tray. "I figured you'd be thirsty, so I brought tea."

Belle lifted an eyebrow. It had been ages since she'd had a hot cup of tea, even longer since someone offered to make some for her. If anything, it was a treat to be savored, a luxury she couldn't afford. She had asked Garrett for the first year of their relationship if it could be included in the budget, and he'd always agree...if the funds were there. And they never were.

The more she thought about it, remembered how it tasted with just the right amount of sugar and cream, the more she felt her mouth start to water.

Before she could stop herself, she nodded her head.

Gold gave her a small smile. "How do you take it?" he asked as he started to pour.

She told him.

It was his turn to frown as he looked back at her. "Sweetheart, are you sure you want tea and not candy?"

She shrugged. "Don't judge another person's preferences. I'm sure there are some things you like that other people don't agree with."

The look he gave her was enough to make her squirm in her seat. It was an expression she'd never seen on anyone's face before, molten eyes that made her want to crawl into his lap; and kiss him until she couldn't remember her own name. The moment ended just as quickly as it started as he cleared his throat and handed her her cup. She gave a mumbled thanks as she took it, the first sip of the bittersweet brew making her close her eyes, and she could barely contain her moan of pleasure. God, it's been so long....

He cleared his throat again before saying, voice slightly hoarse, "Since you'll be staying for a while, I think it would be best for you to move into one of the bedrooms."

Belle shook her head vehemently. "I couldn't do that to you. The couch is fine."

"Seeing how you've living out of your car for God knows how long, I'm sure anything else is the  Marriott. However, the couch is for in-laws. You're a guest."

It was on the tip of her tongue to protest, but seeing the sparkle in his eyes made the words dry up in her mouth. While he was teasing, he was also being honest. It was strange how quickly she was learning that he meant what he said. That in itself was comforting even though logic told her that anyone can change their mind in a flash.

Bae chose that moment to jump into her lap again, the sudden movement making Belle lose her grip on her cup. The sickening crunch of porcelain against hardwood had her heart pounding in her chest.  _ Please don't be broken,  _ she thought as she reached down to retrieve it.  _ Please don't be broken.... _

Fear rushed over her as she saw a small chunk of the cup missing, a triangular groove where it was once whole. Her eyes filled with tears as the possibilities raced through her mind. He was going to throw her out. He was going to find Garrett and demand he bring her back home. He was going to... Fighting the lump in her throat, she showed it to him and said, "I...I'm so sorry, but...it's chipped." At his frown, she quickly added, "Y-you can hardly see it!"

Adam reached out to touch her hand, the motion almost making her drop it again. "It's just a cup," he murmured.

"Please, I can--"

"Belle."

The way he said her name, like a verbal caress, was enough for her to stop in her tracks, all pleas fleeing her mind. He hadn't taken the cup, hadn't thrown it against the wall in rage, hadn't demanded to know why she was such an incompetent fool. And while parts of her were confused, other par ts of her were grateful.

She placed down the cup ( _ it's just a cup _ ), grabbed a hold of the black mass of fur that had deemed her worthy of his affections for the moment, buried her face into the fuzz as Bae purred and began kneading her chest again. The minute vibrations were oddly soothing, a sensation she never knew was possible.

The cat's owner smiled warmly, shifting his hand to scratch under Bae's chin. "Allow me to lead me to your room."

A sug g estion had never sounded more pleasing after the events of the day. Belle nodded her head in agreement. A room sounded lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the medical inaccuracies.
> 
> I've already started on Chapter 15, and I have to admit that it's a bit too fun to write. I worry myself sometimes.


	15. Chapter 15

Belle sighed as she climbed out of the car once she made it back to her professor's house. It had been an extremely long day, and all she really wanted was to go upstairs and nap. Her assignments could wait a few hours, especially since she won't have to go back to those particular ones until Wednesday.

She frowned as she thought about her last class for the day. Professor Gold hadn't shown up despite his promise to be there. In all of the time she's known him, he'd never missed a day. She had thought he was late at first, but that thought was disregarded the moment a substitute had walked through the door. Of course, that had led to a full fifty-five minutes of complete pandemonium that had her anxiety spiking through the roof.

Maybe Professor Gold was sick.

No, he would have let her know somehow seeing how they were practically living together now.

The moment she stepped foot onto the front porch, a sense of dread filled her veins. Something was off, she could feel it.

Her suspicions were confirmed as the door swung open the second her hand touched the wood.

"Professor Gold?" she called.

Instinct told Belle that she should be calling Sheriff Graham right about now. This could be a potential robbery, or at least a case of breaking or entering un-abetted. 

She took a step into the house, flinching as the door slammed shut behind her--as if by magic.

The sickening smell of death and decay reached her nose, her stomach threatening to spill its contents at any second. A large dose of copper, ammonia. Belle covered her mouth to keep most of the stench at bay as she crept forward into the foyer. "Professor Gold?" she called again.

Her feet froze in place the second she entered the living room, her lungs unable to function properly at the sight before her.

The professor lay unmoving on the hardwood floor, his lifeless eyes wide in an eternal expression of shock, a deep wound carved into his neck, his cane mere inches away from his hand.

Her brain finally processed the image before her, and she went to run towards him. "Profe--"

A hand clamped over her mouth,  a nd Belle's body was shoved back-to-front against another. She s t ruggled to get away only to stop the moment cold steel pressed against her neck.

"Now now, Belle," a familiar voice crooned in her ear. "You know better than to try to escape me."

That sense of icy-dread filled her again, this time seeping into her bones.

Garrett.

He'd found her.

"You  just had to involve your lover, didn't you?" He chuckled, a cruel sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "You never were very smart."

He was right. Professor Gold was dead, and it was all her fault.

"But don't worry, sweetheart. You won't be apart for long."

The blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Goodbye, Belle."

A flash of pain was all she felt before her world went dark.

*~*~*

Belle sat straight up in the bed with a gasp, her heart racing faster than galloping horses. Her eyes flicked all over the room, processing the light blue of the walls adorned with frames depicting nature scenes, her hands fisting into the cotton bed s s heets draped over her lap.

The guest room.

It was all a dream.

Relief had her slumping against the pillows again, an arm draped over her eyes. She was still alive.  _ Adam _ was still alive.

Adam. He was so kind to give her a place to stay with no compensation asked. No ulterior motive. Just...kindness towards a student.

A student as damaged as she.

Someone with her background was bound to have her past caught up with her. What if Garrett found them? What if he really does kill Adam?

What if he was already here?

Logic told her that that would be ridiculous. They both would have heard something by now.

Her feet touched the carpeted floor before she could stop herself. Even though she knew the house was more secure than she could ever imagine, more secure than her own apartment had ever been, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until she saw that Adam was okay. That maybe, no matter how asinine the thought  was , her dream hadn't sent an invisible  specter to make her nightmare real.

It was only a short walk right across the hall to Adam's bedroom, a precaution he had made in case she needed him in the middle of the night.

She needed him, she realized. She needed his arms, his touch, his breath  against her lips. Proof he was alive and safe.

Garrett was right. She never had been very smart.

Belle pressed her hand against the cool wood of the door and quietly turned the handle, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as the hinges didn't make a sound. It was all she needed to have him shocked awake like she had been. Then she'd have to  explain her presence to him, and who really wants to voice those true intentions to their professor?

But no. Tonight he wasn't Professor Gold and she wasn't his student. Tonight he was Adam, and she was Belle.

She padded over to wear he lay, taking in his sleeping form, lips quirking into a smile at the sight. For a man who tried to look as intimidating as possible when he was awake, he looked like an innocent child right now in his own bed. He lay on his right side, one leg straight and the other at an angle, a hand resting against his forehead like he was running his fingers through his hair before he dozed off.

An odd feeling struck her heart at that moment, one she had never felt while with Garrett, and that alone had her frowning. It was as though her heart had been torn open and was bleeding out. And yet all she wanted to do was press her lips to his and wrap herself in his arms.

Belle walked over to the empty side of the bed and peeled back the covers before settling in next to him, watching in amusement as caramel-brown eyes blinked open in confusion. "Belle?" he croaked out.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him lamely.

That bursting feeling in her heart increased as his brow furrowed. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

She inched closer until her lips brushed against his, and she could barely hold back her moan as his arms wrapped around her. "You," she whispered. "I need you."

Adam groaned in response as he rolled her onto her back, increasing the pressure of his lips against hers as he deepened the kiss, cupping her face with his hand. Ordinarily, such a position would have her panicking...but she trusted him. She trusted him not to hurt her. That alone had her carding her fingers th rough his hair, heat pooling below her belly as she felt the fingers of his other hand slip lower until he was p;laying with the hem of her teal night-shirt.

He soon dragged his mouth away from hers, planting kisses down her throat with the occassional swip e of his tongue, her shirt slowly riding up to reveal more of her body to him. Her breath puffed out faster as the hand that'd been  caressing her face slid down to join its twin, and the moment her bra was exposed, a faded light blue that had definitely seen better days, Adam swiftly took a nipple into his mouth and laved it with his tongue.

Belle  couldn't stop the cry that left her at that, her body seemingly going up in flames at each lick and light suck through the fabric. His fingers paid attention to her other breast, and she wished they were much lower and sliding in where she needed him most. It was hard to speak past the intense p; pleasure coursing  through her, the only word she could say being a repeated litany of "Please, please, please...." And soon his mouth switched to the other breast, his fingers playing with the frayed side of her bra, the otherwise ticklish sensation sending shivers through her as he lightly skimmed his blunt  fingernails over the  patch of skin that was revealed to him.

Her own hands went to the white T-shirt he wore and she attempted to drag it over his head, mourning the loss of his touch for the  brief seconds he left her. But instead of going back to her breasts, he captured her lips in a fevered kiss, a hand on her waist.

"You have no idea  what you do to me, sweetheart," he drawled, voice thickened with thinly-veiled desire.

"Show me," she whispered back.

He let out another groan, and soon he had lightly grabbed her by the wrist, lowering her hand until it pressed against a rather large bulge barely contained in a pair of boxer briefs.

Her eyes widened at the feel of him, her fingers instinctively wrapping around him as he let out a soft hiss. She had always known that Garrett was on the smaller side of average, even with her limited experience and the light research on the matter in her high school years. But as she trailed her fingers up and down his length, she could tell that even though Adam wasn't exactly  _ above  _ average, it was still a remarkable difference.

What would it be like to lick him from the head all the way down to his balls, to take him deep into her mouth? What would he taste like? She didn't normally like the idea of giving a blowjob (too rough, in her opinion), but this time the thought was enough to have her mouth watering.

Before Belle could make the suggestion, though, Adam had  rolled them over again to have her on top, insistent hands pulling her until her pussy was directly over his mouth. Her body tensed as his intentions became clear, and she took his wrist the second he went to move her panties out of the way. "You don't...have to," she stammered.

"I want to taste you."

She frowned at the response. Garrett had never wanted to reciprocate oral, but mainly shoved himself down her throat on a night he was drunk. Any time she had suggested it to him in the beginning of their relationship, he usually scoffed and said, "No one has time for  _ that _ , Belle. You'd have to be really special."

But here she was, in the house of a man who willingly let her stay with him after she nearly froze to death, and while she should be the one serving him, he was willing to give her pleasure in a way she had only dreamed of for ages.

The moment she nodded her head in agreement, Adam pressed a light kiss to the gusset of her underwear. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, and she nearly came as his tongue slid against the fabric. "Place your hands on the headboard."

She followed the instruction, letting out a moan as his fingers slipped inside her panties to graze at her entrance, an arm wrapping around her waist to pull her closer.

"I love how wet you are for me," he murmured. The finger slid inside of her, thrusting gently, and her walls clutched around him tightly. It took everything within her to hold still as he tortured her like this. "I can't count how many times I've fantasized about you with your legs around my waist as I fucked you on my desk." His finger sped up slightly, making a small curling motion, and she couldn't help but shift her lips in shallow thrusts, her breath coming out harsher. "I'd have to stay behind in the classroom just so I could calm down."

"Please, Adam," she sobbed. "Please...."

He let out a rumbling chuckle as he pulled her  closer and licked the small pearl of her clit. Her fingers tightened around the headboard, her  knuckles turning white, as she let out another sob, the sensation of what felt like wet velvet swirling around her. His finger thrust in faster, fuller strokes, his moan vibrating against her. Not enough air could be pulled into her lungs, and she felt herself meeting him thrust for thrust as his lips wrapped around her clit and he sucked gently on her.

Everything within her was stretched tight, and Belle could feel herself coming closer and closer to the edge. She was vaguely aware of herself speaking almost-coherent phrases, most of which were, "Don't stop!  _ Please _ don't stop!"

Closer, closer. Almost there.... Almost....

Adam suddenly released her, slid his finger out of her, and it took everything within her not to grab one of the extra pillows and smack him over the head with it. If he turned her away again....

"Belle," he panted. "I need to be inside of you. Now."

A wave of relief washed over her as she slid herself downward. In record time, the rest of their clothes were removed, and she took him in hand before slowly sliding him inside. They both moaned in unison, and she leaned down to kiss him as her body adjusted to his size, another shiver going through her as she tasted herself on his lips.  His hands reached down to grab his hips, gently guiding her into a slow rhythm.

"God, you're so tight!" he moaned. "So good...."

Adam's words had her increasing the pace, one of his hands reaching up to her hair to tug lightly on it, the action only increasing the pleasure building up again. She needed faster, harder, deeper, and he seemed to read her mind. He panted what seemed to be words on her lips, but they were too quiet for her to hear, but it sounded like the same phrase whispered over and over. She'd need to ask him what it was later....

The other hand on her waist slipped downward over her ass, sliding along the cleft there until his finger brushed against that forbidden entry. The slight pressure there caused the taut wire within her to break, her pussy spasming around his hard cock, and all she could do was gasp his name as the waves crashed over her. Adam groaned in relief as he came, spurting deep inside of her, the grip he had on her hard enough to leave a bruise. Oddly enough, she welcomed the sensation.

As he softened and slipped out of her, Belle slid off of him and nestled close to his side, breathing harshly after their exertion. Sex had never felt so powerful before, and she'd ponder over it if she wasn't so exhausted. For the first time in forever, she felt safe.

For the first time in forever, she realized as her eyes  closed and sleep took over, everything was fine.

*~*~*

Adam hugged her closer to him, idly brushing his thumb against her shoulder as his heart steadily slowed. The truth pounded deep inside of him like a hammer against a brick wall, and he knew it was too late for him now.

Every kiss of her lips and every touch of her hand had him on fire. Every instinct within him told him to protect her. Being around her made his heart beat in his chest again after ages of being nothing more than a lifeless organ taking up space in his chest. He'd thought he'd known this feeling before when he was married to Milah. But that, he knew now, was nothing more than  servitude , an endless case of "let me do for you so you can show me affection".

He didn't care if Belle matched his feelings. Just as long as she knew she didn't have to run anymore. Just as long as she knew that she could be in a place filled with food and warm blankets.

Just as long as she knew that with him, she could be safe and sound.

Even if the only way he could convey how he felt was pressing his lips to her hair and repeating the same words over and over again in a whisper so low she'd never hear him, whether it be in the silence of the night or during sex like earlier.

_ I love you. I love you. I love you. _

After all, she was his student, and he was nothing more than her professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, let me go ahead and say that since I'm closing in on the end of this fic, I'm going to be switching to one-chapter updates from now on. I'm working on two more chapters before an epilogue. I'm hoping on tying up loose ends soon.
> 
> Second of all, let me just say that I had a bit too much fun writing the first part of this chapter. The second part was a bit nerve-wracking seeing how it was my very first explicit scene EVER. This fic has actually been my first on a lot of things, to be honest. That, however, will most likely be the last time I do something so...issueous. (Yes, I know that's not a real word. Just go with it.) I can't count the number of times I was texting my best friend and complaining to her on how many problems I was running against.
> 
> Third: I'm sorry about being really angsty at the very end of this chapter. That'll be amended eventually. 
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> -BDR


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not proud of this one. Just wanted a little tiny bit of exposition. That and we needed a placeholder for the next chapter.

The morning after their night together, Belle had gotten a text from Ruby always demanding for them to have breakfast together at the diner. Upon stepping outside, instead of seeing her white Honda, her eyes were greeted with the red vehicle belonging to her best friend, keys in the glove compartment on the passenger side, wolf keychain proudly dangling on the rearview mirror.

It had been an infuriating five-minute drive to give the older girl a piece of her mind.

Ruby had dealt with the tirade with a laugh, which only made her even more frustrated. “Dude, the trash heap you drive is practically a neon sign pointing Garrett to where you are. Besides—” her finger prodded the keychain hanging on the ring that was an exact replica to the one hanging from the inside of the car—“these babies were practically my guardian angels. You could use them for a while.”

The explanation was enough to bring tears to her eyes, thankful for the thoughtfulness of her best friend since childhood.

But then the mood was ruined when Ruby asked with the tact of a T-rex how the previous night was. Belle mumbled out a fake excuse about how she needed to head back to the house. Saying she was exhausted only made the other girl laugh loudly, disturbing the other diners and earning her a smack to the back of the head with a plastic menu by Granny.

Another week flue by quickly, leading them to Thanksgiving break. In the end, Adam had voiced his thankfulness for two vehicles in order to get to class. “It wouldn’t do any good to give them a reason to expel you,” he had said.

He’d had a point, which in turn made her thankful as well.

But now it was Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, a holiday she usually dreaded due to the lack of food and the fact that she was usually pretty miserable most of the time, therefore having nothing for which to be thankful. This year, though, even though she was a bit ashamed to say so, she was thankful for being free of Garrett and having her eyes opened to the monster he truly was.

Adam had allowed (in fact, he was pretty much shocked at the suggestion) for her to take full-reign of the kitchen while he caught up on his schoolwork. While he had to grade papers from “those fucking morons”—she wasn’t even offended, something that caught her off-guard—he had also been worried about cooking dinner. Knowing she had set him at ease made her feel like she had accomplished something.

“I have to warn you, though,” she’d stated. “I don’t know how to do anything fancy.”

He’d pulled her into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I’m okay with anything.”

That answer had her frowning up at him, which resulted in him giving a light chuckle and kissing the tip of her nose before going upstairs.  
Now the turkey was almost done, and she had pots of stovetop dressing and mashed potatoes finishing their own cooking processes. The night before, they had made some homemade peanut butter cookies, and she’d had to lightly smack the back of his hand this morning to keep him away from them. The amount of dishes she had prepared looked paltry compared to what other people could make, but she had warned him. That and it kind of reminded her of that one episode of _Peanuts_ she’d watched as a kid where they’d had popcorn for a side.

So that was better…right?

Belle wiped her hands on the towel hanging on the cabinet below the kitchen sink, smiling with satisfaction. The timers were set, the potatoes had been stirred, and the dishes she was done using were washed. Nothing else needed to be done, so she grabbed the book she’d started yesterday and sat on the couch to read.  
She’d been surprised to find out that the first book her mother had ever read to her, _Her Handsome Hero_ , was actually the first in a series. She’d wondered if Mother had known about this, and she wished there was a connection to the afterlife so she could ask. But all she could do was flip pages in the third installment of the bittersweet series ( _Her Hero’s Sacrifice_ ) and hopefully spread her love for books to her future children.

The slow tapping of a cane had her heart speeding up, her hands instinctively closing the book and setting it far away as she stood up. Her breath stuck in her throat as she quickly checked the digital timer sitting next to her, fear freezing her blood. Not again. She can’t have made the same mistake again…. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

* * *

  
Adam frowned as he took in the sight of Belle before him ash she put the timer away and headed quickly for the kitchen. What was wrong? What’s happening? But then he noticed he stiffness of her movements as she fiddled with what was on the stove, wringing her hands as her discomfort increased.

Another panic attack.

He hadn’t seen her have one since the night she accidentally chipped the cup, but he wasn’t a fool enough to believe he had magically cured her just by having her in his bed a few times. No, he knew this would take ages, if ever. All he could do was figure out how to get her to relax.

He slowly stepped towards her, reaching out a hand to graze her arm with his fingers. His heart shattered a he saw her flinch. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Belle’s eyes met his, a wild anxiousness in them that he’d only read about. She took a shaky breath, but her words came out with an air of false confidence. “I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention. I shouldn’t have been reading.”

He gave her a smile that he hoped looked reassuring. “Are they done?”

“No, but….” She tore her eyes away from his, her voice trailing off.

He opened the oven door, slid the turkey out the smallest bit, not at all missing the fact that Belle had moved away a few paces. Did she think…? No, she couldn’t.

“Almost there,” he told her as he set it right again. “Looks good, but we’ll give it a while longer.”

No answer. When he looked over, he saw that her arms were wrapped around herself, nails digging into her skin, teeth buried into her bottom lip. She flinched again, tensing as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. “Shhh…” he murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you…”

Her head turned until it was buried against his neck, and he felt wetness touch his shirt. Her back was still tense, as though she was trying her hardest to hold her breath so she wouldn’t cry. But the desire to breathe won out once in a while as she took a single lungful of air, repeating the process as more tears continued to drip on him.

He didn’t mind one bit. His girl was upset, and he’d let her take as long as necessary.

* * *

They sat in the living room after dinner, drinking tea and munching on cookies as they watched the fire blaze. Baelfire was on Belle’s lap, cleaning himself after winning a few pieces of turkey from his new human, his loud purr rumbling against her leg.

Adam had claimed the chipped cup for himself, something that soothed yet worried her. He didn’t seem like the type of person who would do something just to make a person feel better. He told it like it was and didn’t give a damn who cared. But a sane person wouldn’t keep something damaged. They’d throw it away or replace it, not caring if it collected dust or got damaged further. But no…he treated this cup like it was special. Like it was a priceless heirloom.

This man was a mystery to her. They’ve known each other for a bit over three months and she didn’t know the slightest thing about him other than his name, what he did for a living, where he lived, and that he had a cat. But he’d rescued her, given her a place to stay (at least for now), and gave her the most intense orgasms she’d ever had in her life.

The least she could do was get to know him better.

“What’s your middle name?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

He had been in the middle of raising his cup for a sip, but hesitated at her question, quirking his lips with a small laugh as he lowered it to the table. “Why do you ask?”

“You…amaze me,” was all she could say in response.

He lifted an eyebrow at her, then let out another laugh as he shook his head. “And you me.”

Belle frowned. She’s had a man question her intelligence, be astounded at how clueless she truly was, yet never had one say they were amazed by _her_. He was definitely a mystery she wanted to uncover. “So?” she prompted.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Swear it.”

It was Belle’s turn to giggle. “I won’t!” she insisted.

He nodded his head, seeming to accept her response. “Only three other people know this. I’d like to keep it that way.”

She laced her fingers with his, squeezing lightly. “I won’t laugh and I won’t tell. They’ll have to kill me first.”

“Somehow, I don’t find that joke of yours very comforting, sweetheart.” But then he took a deep breath and mumbled something incoherent.

Belle frowned again. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Ulysses.”

Belle mulled it over in her head, then tested the words in her mouth. “Adam Ulysses….” Bae jumped out of her lap as she turned her whole body to face him. “You’re joking!”

He scowled at her, the emotion in his eyes nearly tearing her to pieces. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”

She instantly squeezed his hand again, saying, “No, no, no! It’s not like that! I honestly find it kind of heartless. Almost like someone naming their kid Pilot Inspektor.”

“It was a gift from dear ole Dad. Apparently, I was the reason my mother left us not long after I was born. He dropped me off at a random person’s doorstep when I was nine. Said something about never wanting to be a father in the first place, that I’ve always been a burden to him. That sticks with a child.”

She thought about it for a moment before asking, “So…you don’t have a family?”

Adam shook his head, his body settling more against the couch. “No. I was the only child my parents had together. My ex-wife never wanted children, either, but we were married for almost ten years before she told me. Milah left when she finally found someone better than me, better than I’ll ever be—her words, not mine. Five years after the divorce was finalized, I found Bae, and he became the closest thing to a son I’ve ever had.”

Belle smiled at him, brushing a thumb over his knuckles as she heaved a sigh. “I don’t have much of a family, either. Other than Ruby and granny, Garrett’s been the only thing I’ve had for years. My mother died in a car accident when I was a child, and Papa became a shell of himself after that. A few years later, he told me wanted to be reunited with my mother. I was still in high school at the time.”

Adam wrapped an arm around her again, kissing the top of her head. The action made her heart pound, but she filed away the reaction to analyze later. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said quietly.

She shrugged. “It’s okay now. I met Garrett not too long afterwards. He was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Was he now?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Well…I’ll admit it was tough living with him at times. We didn’t have much money all the time, and sometimes he wasn’t that affectionate—”

“And he had you living out of your car for God knows how long.”

She tilted her head back and forth in consideration. “When you put it that way….”

“I won’t say what you felt wasn’t love. But I will say that what he felt _definitely_ wasn’t. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Adam—”

“Belle,” he interjected again, turning her so she faced him once more, that look on his face that had her heart melting and close to bursting at the same time. “Someone who really and truly loves you—someone who _means_ it—would never lay a harmful hand on you.”

Her eyes searched his for the longest time, brow furrowed, as she tried to place that elusive emotion he seemed desperate to convey. And the more she looked, the more she wanted to lean forward and kiss him, to try and express what she herself didn’t know her heart wanted.

But before she could move the slightest inch, Adam sighed heavily and leaned away from her. “It’s getting late. We should get some sleep.”

Why did it feel like she was falling apart at that very moment, being crushed to pieces with no hope of ever coming back together? But Belle found herself nodding instead of protesting. After all, would it have done any good? Experience said no.

As they slowly made their way up the stairs, him taking longer because of his leg (“It’s no matter,” she had assured him during the start of her stay. “Take your time.”), she contemplated his words. He seemed positively convinced that she had never deserved a single bruise Garrett had placed on her. He had held her as she was in the throes of an anxiety attack instead of telling her to get over it. But why?

They had split at the landing, Belle going to her door and Adam going to his, and she had just placed a hand to the doorknob when she heard him clear his throat. Her heart lurched at the sound, and she turned to face him, hoping for…what, exactly?

But all he did was turn away after a few seconds of holding her gaze. “Good night, Belle,” he murmured, turning his own door handle.

Within a few seconds, Belle was alone in the hallway, a thousand and one thoughts zipping through her head.

It wasn’t until she was lying in her bed a while later when she realized all she wanted was to experience his arms again, his kiss, his affection that was so much more different than what she’s known for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been...an interesting few months. First I had a laptop (borrowed, of course), but then they asked for it back. The one I'm using now used to belong to my mother since it was being used as a paperweight after she upgraded to a new one. I really don't care. As long as it connects to the internet, I'm fine!
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll be posting the next chapter. I've been dealing with a lot of negative emotions for the past week, but I'm trying to bounce back as quickly as I can. Thank you for your patience.


End file.
